


Another Tale of Underground – Interlude of Delight

by Hunter_of_Eridanus



Series: Another Tale of Underground [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Politics, Character of Faith, Evil Corporations, F/F, F/M, Family, Female Frisk, Friendship, Gen, Kings & Queens, Love, M/M, Magical Realism, Medieval Futurism, Metaphysics, Mythology - Freeform, Old-Fashioned Language, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Slice of Life, Spirit Guides, Theoretical world, True Pacifist Ending, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9800732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hunter_of_Eridanus/pseuds/Hunter_of_Eridanus
Summary: The world lives on an apparent calm, unaware of what is happening on its surface.What happened in one of its cliffs, however, has a ring of miraculous.It took a journey of a month, back and forth, in search of his place in the framework of existence, but Asgore found much more than just himself.As the mocking sign of eternal recurrence, the greatest challenge of all monsters and fallen humans looms ahead: to live in pursuit of happiness in the Overworld and its facets.Nations have fallen, kingdoms were restored, new chivalric and philosophical orders have arisen to defend and understand what secrets are hidden in supercelestial vastness, while megacorporations thrive on the backs of others in a continuous fight against Anarchy and the Mafia.Faced with ever greater forces than them, the little daily things will become their shield in the slow process of peaceful integration.Here, where the past mingles with the future in bold and picturesque scenery, amid technological developments, power games, social classes concerns and interests, metaphysical debates and farcical situations... Will monsterkind be able to assert its place in the world?





	1. Once upon a night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy dear readers, I welcome you to this new chapter of the saga.
> 
> This means that, for those who have not read yet the prior events, I highly recommend you to do so, otherwise you may not make head nor tail of what has brought us here, the various characters that were introduced (original yet based on Undertale ones), plus a whole series of weird things (which on the other hand have a certain internal logic).
> 
> On the other hand… I allow you to read this first chapter, and have a look at it. If it will pique your interest, why not give this series a shot?
> 
> So, after spending days to collect ideas, summoning this benighted Hyperuranion, I am here to present you the result of my crazy ruminations.
> 
> As per the name, this is an interlude dense with slices of life, which narrates the hardships of the monster populace (and above all the Dreemurr’s family) in integrating themselves in Earth’s societies. 
> 
> This is where we jump with both feet in a Hypothetical post-Undertale universe.
> 
> This semi-scifi, semi-fantasy Earth is set in a hypothetical future, and looks more like a post-modern world after tectonic shifts and the disruption of political balance (before it could throw everything into a nuclear winter). New nations rose as a result, humans’ attempt to give a semblance of order.
> 
> This is a sharp break with the past, and also a scenario that is part of a world apart, where references to our Earth are mostly sources of inspiration, the best excuse to make it unpredictable, other than fantastical.
> 
> After all, the monsters’ return filled Earth with "mythology” again, while human magic is experiencing a renaissance in some circles of scholars and “priests” (this magic is not really the kind of D&D, so to speak).
> 
> Each character will render their own portrait, enrich their interactions, assert themselves in the eyes of humans, everyone becoming distinctive and memorable. And finally, I’ll give an eye of regard to Frisk and Asriel, who’ll reveal their hidden potential. With these two, sparks will erupt.
> 
> Of course, since the world is beautiful because it is variegated, animosity is always lurking, but nothing will ruin their day (not yet). It may sound sentimental in the early chapters but, you know, life is never linear and has in store many difficult challenges. We'll see how solid is their relationship.
> 
> I hope you will like it. Enjoy the reading!
> 
> ;-)

It is said that those who climb Mount Ebott never return.

Monitions whose mere mention make the skin crawl, and pushed some to imperil themselves, out of a sense of adventure, recklessness or world-weariness, only to confirm them at their expense.

But a breath of air on a spring day came, scraping and bringing to light what was hidden under old fears: legends. For centuries believed to be true, on one day discredited by the very same ones that fostered them.

Just like that, the fallen humans returned, after an ordeal lasting for centuries that has regenerated them in body and hardened their awareness of what resided there and was feared, and that on balance was as amiable as the sunlight.

And if they were injury to the legends, what greater insult to death itself than the blithe smile of the reviving Crown Prince of monsters, Asriel of Dreemurr dynasty?

He and his siblings were the sum and summit of the little and sweet revenge that the eighth human claimed to the fatal conviction. Her outstretched hand the cause of imponderable consequences, greater than any other consolation in their extraordinary and amazing simplicity, laying a fire brand in the history of all monsters, so disjointed and yet chained to the fate of humans.

Their story seemed to start where it was left, even before reaching the slopes of Ebott, no more foretelling exile and disaster but prefiguring itself blissful and grandiose.

Just this historic event would be a harbinger of euphoria, novelty and freshness, enough to turn the human cognition, forgetful of this civilization living in the shadow of the Mountain, enough to constitute the emergence of a new era.

Yet for those eight it was the least of their thoughts.

-[Undertale - Good Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGpJrPY563A)-

In the longest night of their life, in the place they could call home, the lights were still all on.

The sounds came out dull, but it was clear that there was movement, and anxiety.

They were worried, but reluctant to resign themselves to despair, sure that everything would have turned for the best.

The perception of radical change was set aside by a modest waiting.

For a mere knock on the door.

"Hey lil sis, you haven’t to stand there alone doin’ the watchman."

Jebediah’s scratchy voice stirred her.

Vérane broke away eye-contact from the space outside the house, but she did not give signs of moving from her position. She remained sitting, curled up on the ledge of the bay window.

Her sight seemed inconsolable. "It is getting late and they are not showing up yet."

A dispirited nuance clothed her otherwise shrill accent.

The blond beardless youth squeezed his lips. The sad and lost sort of look of her, was hurting. "I savey Vera, but there’s no need to turn rattled and lose sleep… You wouldn’t sacrifice the whole night by farin’ all-overish."

Vérane no longer seemed to hear.

He sat down next to her, his head towering over her slender and rolled up form.

His move piqued her attention, she searching in his pale-blue eyes the steady and reassuring presence she sought. Yet it lasted only a moment, retreating and looking once again into the night.

"Ain’t you feelin’ cold so close to the winder? I bet tomorrow you’ll wake up sore all over if you stay like this.”

She sank her chin behind the drawn up knees, muttering something. She still did not move from there.

And after the lips, he clenched the fists.

He was no less worried than her, and found hard to inject understanding and care in his tone without making room for concern, but he struggled to do it anyway.

"At least go with the others on the couch, get warm. I'll stay on guard tonight," he forced himself to say, but her gaze was just as empty as her voice.

"I just cannot," she replied, faint.

"C’mon sugarcube, buck up!" he said again, assertively and smiling, at the cost of sounding nonchalant. "They aren’t in any danger, y’know how strong those two are! They’ll come back safe and sound, you'll see!"

It seemed to work: the steel of her irises gleamed.

"I really hope so Jebediah," she answered with some affection. But from her tight mouth still ran an earnest: " _Mais Hélas_!"

He sighed. It came naturally, as he grasped her smooth as silk hands on her cold feet. "What's the matter now?"

"What if Dad does not want to come back?" Her chin set down again on the knees, revealing the bites on her lips, seemingly bleeding against her whiter than white skin. “The way he left, speaks volumes.”

“Well, I reckon that nobody wants to go to letty.”

His calloused palms held hers tight as in a casket, rubbing them gently. "He'll be back. It’s been hard for everybody, and when certain things take yo’ heart, they scare. But Mom Tori went on purpose to give him strength. Plus... she knows how to be convincing."

Finally, a smile, amused by the way.

Yes, he always found a way to reassure her, and succeeded from the first day they met, when the inherent Determination in their souls rang out behind layers of enchanted glass.

However, at the most… that feeling of strangeness would not go away anyway.

They seemed to know each other for a lifetime, but only partially.

Apart from singing through feelings, she did not have the faintest idea of how the faces of these supposed siblings were. Whatever their voices, eye and skin colours, their thoughts and the way they thought.

She was sure, they were tied by an unbreakable thread, yet invisible, inscrutable.

The heart knew, but the mind did not as of yet. As if they were acquaintances and strangers at the same time.

In such frail state of the mind, she did not feel like throwing her arms around his neck, a sisterly instinct that she never had the opportunity to experience in her lifetime. And that she deemed inappropriate.

Unpretentiously, she opened her mouth to thank him.

But a feisty voice soon interrupted her.

“It's awfully quiet down here ah!” boomed down with botched speech from the stairs, burdened with its dialectal inflection.

A sentence said boisterously that was enough into the blanket of silence of that unnerving waiting.

Fion interrupted his restless patrol in front of the empty fireplace.

Yukiko, who was sitting properly, turned to the source climbing with her feet on the armchair.

Right on the couch in front of the latter, Sophie's hypnosis shattered, shutting from preening compulsively Asriel’s ears.

These twitched right after they perceived the voice, much to their owner surprise, as he made aslant eye contact with Frisk.

Feet fell heavily but muffled on wooden steps, and a pacey whistling played a tune known only to him.

Jebediah and Vérane were the only ones able to gaze from that angle. And burst out laughing.

Sophie got up intrigued. "What do they find so funny?" she wondered quietly.

She leaned sideways to look, but he was already on the last thud on the ground floor, in full view.

Without bandages nor stench. "A wash was just what I needed!"

Sparse drops of water were still falling from his chestnut hair on the floor, escaping the pink bath towel he girded himself with, from shoulders to below the knees, and a nice pair of matching shower slippers.

"But... but... Franco?!" Sophie exclaimed in awe. She could not believe her sight, unlike the others who saw him badly with tears in the middle of the sight and doubling up with laughter.

“Darn bro, you’re so dote!” stated Fion ironic.

Frisk nudged with complicity Asriel, cracking up loud, even though she had quite a different opinion. “It realy wooks good on you!” she declared, her little child voice resonating through her vocal cords vibrating at full power.

Franco felt he just had to nod with satisfying approval. "You like it? It's the latest fashion, the Wide version for the most demanding."

"What the..." Sophie snorted suppressing a laugh.

Still, she strove to maintain a minimum of composure. "You think it’s appropriate rummaging through ma’s stuff and put it on?!"

"What else, be caught dripping with sweat?" he replied, with all the tranquillity of the world. "And anyway, I want to enjoy dinner, I think it’s not the case to eat sniffy with the nose all the way up. Am I right Vérane?"

"What?!" - the aforementioned goggled at him - “What are you implying? I am not like that!”

"Ah, _chérie_!” He smiled, light and suggestive of his affability. “Don’t you know that a long face is not that great of a virtue?"

"I know, stupid!" she replied, sticking out the tongue amused.

"And, what's with the smell?" Sophie in the meantime had approached him, attracted by something. "But... it's lavender!"

" _Ehhh_ that’s what I found first."

Sophie’s gaze became sour. "Have you thought about, say, respect other people’s property?"

“Uff! We are to say 'mum mum’ and we can’t even take a drop of bubble bath, borrow the plushy towel, take a shower..." he began listing with his relaxed, elongated, lamenting cadence. “You should do it too instead, so they’ll find us fresh and clean, a joy for the eyes!" he assured, kissing his fingertips and cut loose that feeling in the air. “ _Eh_!”

Actually, his stocky build had regained strength, his brown irises all new vitality. Seeing him, it was almost natural for her to rub the dry black skin on her arms that accentuated ever the more its low hydration.

"Ugh, I'm all wrinkly!" she grumbled aloud with masterful peeve.

"See?"

The big sister crossed her arms, undecided whether to give in to it or not. "Okay, let’s go for a shower, but I’d like to see what we’re gonna do with the clothes."

"We’ll borrow them too."

"Here, I kne..."

"Yes yes, understood," – he interrupted her – "I'll take the responsibility, but it’s always better than those gross bandages."

"But they’ll be huge! Umpf.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “It still doesn’t seem right to me."

"And I take that as not right, but in return, you’ll peel off the dirt!” Franco laughed soundly.

"Sorry to interrupt yo’ bickerin’," – Jebediah interjected – "But where exactly did ya get the water Frankie? There's some kind of tank upstairs?"

"And you ask me? You don’t know there’s running water in houses?"

"Er… to acknowledge the corn, I don’t."

Sophie slapped her own thigh. "Of course he doesn’t know, dummy! Back in the day they could only dream for this luxury!"

"Are you serious?! Neither do I know about it!" Vérane felt left out of the whole thing.

"Good grief!" The big sister got the message. "Alright then. Yukiko and Vérane, let's get cleaned up. I'll explain how it works, hoping that nothing’s changed after all this time."

" _Aneue_?" the little child with ebony hair uttered, words blunted by her forefinger in mouth, her almond eyes looking questioningly at Sophie, completely puzzled. It was enough to soften her, who smiled warmly and maternally took her hand.

"C’mere Vera," she said then to her sister, who was running her hand over her brunette hair, dried and crazily frizzly. As soon as her eye fell on a lock between her fingers, she felt faint. " _Parbleu_! _Je suis pleine de pointes fourchues_!" she complained in such a spontaneous way that snatched Jebediah’s lively smile.

“You ought to be a beauty that heaves into sight when they come back, nkay?" he said, putting a finger under her chin.

"Certainly, thanks _Jebou_!" she replied and, without warning, kissed him on the forehead, telling correctness to get lost. Fleeting and slinky like a moth, she caught up with Sophie, who determined was getting ready to climb the stairs.

“ _Jebou_! How lovely!” Franco implied knowingly and laughed about when he saw her getting ahead and giving him a blow on the shoulder and a cocky grin. “Ouch.”

"Now girls, we’ll settle for Mom’s clothes, okay?” Sophie’s steady dark brown eyes sought agreement in her sisters’, and peremptory met those of Franco. “And as for you, remember that you'd better let us find the bath towel on the doorknob, clear?"

Franco suddenly turned serious, nodding a slow nod. "Easy, I’ll do," he answered calmly and sly.

No sooner he finished saying it, he saw Frisk slipping swift from one side. Her lemon-yellow jumpsuit swirled with gusts after her antelope leap, up to place her in front of the three girls before they could go up a step. "Sophi!" she called out and took a deep breath then, sharpening the wait.

Determination blazed in her rich gaze. "You dhree can take my cwothes too!"

It may have been Determination, but to Sophie those eyes seemed only to be made of sugar. "But what a honey you are! How can I say no to a sweetie like you?"

"Your clothes?" the hesitant voice of Yukiko, hidden behind Sophie’s hip, peeped out. Admittedly, those of Toriel were far too big for her. “Um... I take them?” she said, pointing at herself tentatively.

Frisk just took her hands screaming with laughter, and hopped with her. "Yes! Yes! You take ‘em!"

"Aww, so adorable!" The two girls chorused. And after having pinched her cheeks, Sophie came to her senses. "Alright, alright! Serious moment here! We promise to leave your wardrobe in order, okay sweetie?”

“Yeah!”

“Great! Now you two, forward march!" she declared in military fashion, climbing the stairs together and soon shutting behind them the bathroom door.

The noise lessened, apart from the incessant ticking of the pendulum clock, and with it the momentary excitement. Only then Franco’s gaze swung left and right, circumspect. It turned thin, attracting upon himself the curious ones of the others.

Frisk curious came up to his belly, not wanting to miss an opportunity to interact. "What's de mattwa, Fra?"

He looked at her amused, and he too took a deep breath, waved frantically his hands near the sides of the head and pretended to shout from the rooftops, but in a low voice. “ _Beddamatri_!"

He spoke to himself and he heard himself, although the scene seemed grotesque to all of them, not to mention their quizzical brows that poked his sighs of resignation. “Okay, I meant by that: she got worked up. Became ill-tempered, really."

Fion scratched his bushy red hair struggling against sleepiness, emitting an occasional grunt. "Welp, I was expecting a lot worse honestly."

"There’s some truth in what Sophie said though." Jebediah glanced at Franco with utmost seriousness.

Franco picked it up as one picks up a gauntlet. "Why, I did wrong to take the initiative, maybe?"

"Maybe. That’s typical of you goin’ yo’ own way, Frankie."

His tone of voice, now calm and severe, triggered something that the others did not like.

Sparks crackled when their gazes clashed. One was piercing and seemingly friendly, the other slightly irritated by certain disregarding behavior.

Between filthy bandages and a wet pink towel, in this incredible situation, Fion did not know exactly who to root for. “Woo-hoo! That's the kind of Determination I like!”

Asriel, that in the meantime did not dare to breath a word, was shaken in spite of himself by a kind of bad feeling.

"Guys, you wouldn’t want to quarrel..." he quavered shyly, trying to calm tempers. However, his request fell on deaf ears, since the two showed no signs of curbing the clash of views.

One could say anything, but that was not the usual set phrase. Those faces of uneasiness pursuing his mouth, stood out all too eloquently to Frisk.

She followed suit, interposing between the two young men hoping to stop them. "Yea, don’t try to quarel!" her shrill voice made itself be heard again, but her impressive height of three and a half feet was not enough.

Franco looked at her with half-open, half-closed eye, muttering and drawling.

"Come on _compà_ _Gebe_ , at least they keep themselves busy, why we should laze in pain? And going to sleep isn’t happening, everybody is in anxiety here," he said, irreverent but nevertheless sympathetically.

Jebediah thought about it. Then he crossed his legs, relaxed. "Alright. All in all it’s no big deal."

"What the hell?! That's it?" – Fion snorted loudly in frustration – "Guys, thought you were more resolute, more gritty!"

"Eh?” Franco casually looked at him. “What is it now, Fion?"

His voice even changed, more intense than earlier, but Fion, even though he noticed it, did not really listen to it. "And you even ask it! It goes without saying that you big brothers should carry through EVERYTHING you start! Spirit of competition is good for friendship!"

"And here I thought it was rivalry," Franco thought aloud, contemptuously. "So let me guess, you want a fight to break out between me and _Gebe_?"

"Well, between the two of you sooner or later it will hap-" Fion paused "-Okay, never mind that. Even if there was, what's wrong? Between boys hands do the talking, usually. Like I always did in the orphanage with my friends."

"Wha…” Franco was struck dumb by what seemed like grasping at straws. “That’s a really undisciplined youth! You can lock horns but from here to beat up it takes a lot! The joke is nice when short-lived!"

"Yeah right, but when it comes to you, it’s long as you want bro!"

"Speak for yourself redhead! Why don’t you stop and get over it instead of fidgeting at random?"

"Stop it you, block of wood!" Fion stood angry in front of him.

Although scrawny in comparison with the big brother, Fion appeared not a bit daunted. Also because of the pink towel which was not exactly intimidating.

"Sigh, you’re still going to string me along with this, dummy brother?" Franco grunted, annoyed.

"Ye bleedin’ thick! Really you're too uncaring!” Fion retorted even more annoyed.

Franco deadpan face met Jebediah’s shaking head, since some things had the bad habit of repeating themselves. Two hotbeds in perpetual disagreement.

“And speaking of which, I'll say it clearly: why we are still here instead of going after them?! I'mma going crazy just waiting here and you guys are not helping! What’s Determination for if you won’t help others?!"

"Don’t put in my mouth things I never said! I think of the good of others more than myself, not in the way you do, hitting the ground running and starting to think after making the mess!"

"Yeah?! And you think you’ll get something by standing still, like you keep doing all night?!"

" _Minchia_ , _l’eroe arrivau_!" Franco raised his voice, flailing his open hand at the top of the head. "You’d better stay still, I don’t want to see you again in a coma for whatever other… foolery!"

"Ah, that’s how you put that? Then watch this!" Fion sassed impatiently and with wounded pride.

The steaming hot child jumped suddenly to his brother’s right, running toward the front door.

"Hold yo’ horses, hothead,” – Jebediah, quicker than him, blocked his way – “Where in tarnation are you goin’?"

"I’m gonna search for ‘em, of course! Now move aside!"

The big brother looked at him from head to toe. "Don’t be stupid, you won’t make it. You’re with no means of transportation, you’ve shaky step, and I hardly think you’d redo the same road without trippin’ over yo’ feet. You're just more rowdy than usual, so wipe yo’ chin and sit down."

Fion gave in, puffing and pouting with arms crossed. "Umpf, what a nuisance you two are…"

"Guys, please..."

The sad voice of Asriel, faint as a whisper, managed to put them all on alert. One sniff of him made them forget every reason to quarrel.

Rapidly approaching him, Frisk’s heart sank seeing his shiny eyes, affliction painted on his face. "Asriel..."

He felt wrapped, a tight grip just below the shoulders. The soft cheek of Frisk rubbed on his shiny and soft fur. "Don’t be sad..." she drawled, sad like him.

His heart was beating, she felt it, but she could not see the red vermilion on his muzzle. The apple scent of her smooth and soft brown hair right on the nose, added itself to the swirl of pleasant emotions.

"See what you’ve done?!" Frisk scolded them, turning her head towards the brothers with difficulty rather than letting go of him.

That eased him instantly, but at least she was not the only comfort. The slight sinking in the synthetic leather of the sofa announced Fion’s hand on his shoulder. "Azzy, what's wrong?"

For a moment, the little monster could not articulate an answer.

How he felt, was a state of acute emotionality. A whirlwind of feelings, flashing between joy and depression in a matter of minutes, and he could not express it nor suppress it. He sat in suspense to find the words and to make them part of it, but it was the whole evening his soul came disorientated by all types of unruliness.

He did not feel at ease with his parents out of the house, probably arguing somewhere. He shuddered at the thought of considering all those humans, victims of his ambitions for several replays, a thing perhaps they will never forgive, his siblings.

Still he looked forward to an intimate coexistence, he wished it with all his heart. He still felt them as a part of himself, an indelible sign made of six human souls dug in his reformed little body, that filled and then left a huge void.

And given that the past is hard to swallow, interiorized with big fears and remorse, the mere possibility of arguments in his newfound family, even trifles, which could undermine its balance, sent his blood into icy creeps.

"I don’t want you to fight..." was all he could say, with disarming shyness and embarrassment.

Fion rubbed the knuckles on his head and dismissed the issue as if nothing had happened. "Really! You won’t cry for real after some messing around?"

Asriel did not have time to process another answer, that he felt another sink, more massive and full, sensing the aroma of lavender a few centimeters from his nostrils.

"My joy!" said Franco, who felt so bad that made his concern palpable. "It’s true that we get angry, but apart from some minor bicker it ends there! We don’t stop to love each other for reasons so stupid!"

"It wasn’t the time to be stupid, not by a jugful," Jebediah pointed out, lingering to come while turning a chiding gaze to the two brothers. "We’ve to get used to be under one roof. You're right Asriel, pardon us."

"No, no, there's no need to apologize, it’s just that..." Asriel sniffed again, trying to regain self-control. "I'm down in the dumps, here."

Frisk held him tighter. From the way he trembled, perhaps she sensed something.

"Hmm..." Franco nervously rubbed his chin all the time, harassing the few hairs in place. "Well, I think I will not do an injustice to anyone if I tell you one thing, Asriel."

It was all that was needed to stand his head at attention and semi-open his little hairy maw. "What?"

"Listen, listen to this. I know it will seem strange, but believe me, it’s an important secret that right now I have to reveal to you perforce. So, I tell you…”

He paused for a moment, his dark pupil now enclosed in a thin line between eyelids. Frisk and Asriel were like caught by that turn of events, slowly parting from the embrace.

"When I am worried, I usually start swaying to and fro, you know? So, I just moved around the house. But as soon as I found the bathroom, or at least I recognized it as such, I crawled inside. I thought then and there, ‘just what the doctor ordered’! I ripped off those filthy bandages, I opened the hot water, and I shoved myself inside with hardly the time to say ‘Ah’!

“You could say, what gives? Well, I was washing myself, relaxed and content with the jet of water that entered in my mouth, and I was minding my own business. When suddenly..."

He paused again. He was aware of creating suspense, smiling like any good storyteller at the children’s eye gleaming with curiosity. Fion and Jebediah just started to laugh in their sleeve.

"I hear tapping. Tuck! Tuck! At first I thought someone knocking on the door, so I yelled under the shower roar: 'Who is it?!', but I received no response. Yet that thing was still beating, somewhere. So, I pulled my head out of plastic curtain, I sharpened my sight and..."

Asriel’s little head leaned forward. "And?! Don’t keep me on pins and needles!"

"It strains credibility! A little bird! A small thrush banging his beak against the window glass! So now you tell me, what could I do? I got out of the shower of course!” he said, impressing him with his hands motion, showing imaginary drops falling everywhere. “All wet, I opened the window and I let it come in."

"Oh gosh!"

"Yeah! So it landed on my hand, without thinking twice. It was small and all trembling, and looked at me up and down with the head that… how to say it... had jerky movements?"

Frisk clapped her hands in ecstasy. "A dwush flying at dis time of night? But why?!"

"I know why!" – Franco resumed telling – "We were both watching each other intensely..."

"Yep, a thrush and a provolone," Jebediah interjected ironically, smiling amicably.

Franco raised his chin as a kind of quick nod in his direction. "Exactly! And looking at me straight on the nose, it began to talk!"

And if it already sounded scarcely credible, the incredible made them burst out laughing.

"But Franco, that’s way weird! Birds can’t speak!" Fion managed to utter a word between a laugh and the other.

"And tell that to it!” – Franco replied with ever more belief – “This one has started talking, and how! With my tongue nonetheless! And what it told me, it’s this amazing secret. Are you ready?"

The mystery was soon to be revealed, clinging behind the teeth of the boy’s smile.

"What? What? "Asriel and Frisk repeated together, dying to hear the end of it.

"It told me: _Viri che stannu arrivannu_! _Viri che stannu arrivannu_!’” the moistened boy added emphatically, booming with a voice as if it was a proclamation of the court. "And there I realized, and finally calmed down as you can see right now, that mum and dad will come soon! And if a Sikelian bird tell something like this, you must believe it necessarily!"

He sounded convincing. And the laughter was not far behind.

Jebediah, standing, his back leaning on the armchair seatback, red-faced, was looking like in bewilderment the Hyperuranion. "Hunkey Dorey… That’s top-sawyer Frankie."

The other was about to thank him open-mouthed, and stopped just after. "But, if you haven’t heard me talking not even once!"

"You're darn tootin', and that’s why I keen on seein’ you do even better than this."

"Yeeeeah!" – Fion jostled his shoulder – "You gotta introduce me that smart little bird!"

"Oh, you just wait and see! As soon as I find it I'll make it talk to you!” the jovial boy replied, trying to keep a serious façade all the while, to which Frisk and Asriel, after all, believed on trust.

"The important thing is that you two trust me, okay?" Franco urged precisely those two, if they still had to doubt his word.

Asriel’s eyes simply lit up. "So they’ll come together!"

"Sure! Sure!” Franco repeated staunchly. “Birds don’t tell lies!"

Asriel winced at the top of his lungs. Even his hands on the mouth could not smother his enthusiasm. "Aha! That’s so cool!"

He sought his sister’s amazed look, on all fours on the couch. "Did you hear that Frisk?! Franco speaks with animals!"

"Okay, okay, but let's not get ahead of ourselves!" Franco said, forced on the defensive. "Maybe it's one of those polyglot bird princes, or something."

"Are you serious?! Ohmigosh! This world is so full of surprises!"

“Whoops…” Franco bit his tongue. The more he talked, the more he got himself into, and the euphoria of those two lively tops only increased.

"Hey Asriel! How many animal pwinces are? Who knows if dey wanna talk to us too!” Frisk was clearly on his same wavelength.

"You're right Frisk! Perhaps there is one for each animal! And then... if they are princes, should we bow down to them?”

"Yea, I think so! Did you bowed, Fra?"

Better and better. " _Jurnata rutta, rumpila tutta_ …" he just whispered, getting cornered.

"heya kiddo, good timing.”

-[A Late Night At Grillby's (Sans. Theme)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bDPAsqPELiw)-

Sans came unseen surprising everyone, grinning as usual, pulling Franco to safety. "I'm on board with ya buddo, their dullness was competing with mine."

"Sansy!" Frisk smiled. "Whewe have you been?!"

The child, leapt to her feet in a thrill, raised a chuckle out of him. "Heh, I almost didn’t remember your voice, Frisk.”

He shook his head, and since he was at it, he leaned on the sofa backrest with his elbow. “Anyway, alternating between boredom and naps, the last thing I was doing was giving a hand to Papyrus in the kitchen. But he just didn’t want it, he said it isn’t part of the ingredients."

"Good lord! I’d hate to munch yo’ fingers!" Jebediah added amused, playing along.

Sans shrugged. "Yep, but I think the rest of the Royal Guard would’ve appreciated it.”

Suddenly, the skeleton seemed to get serious. His elbow sank on that soft cushion with decision. “Never mind tho. I heard some bustle going on, so... Whassup fellas? You aren’t blowing up the house, aren’t ya?”

Franco started to laugh double take. "AH! I figured it out now!"

Sans sighed, and shrugged again. “Better late than never, kiddo. I see that you cleared your head."

Franco covered his chest better, exposed to the cold. "I really needed that, _Sasà_. I care about looking my best with my… ‘presumptive’ adoptive parents," he replied proudly.

Sans stood passively observing him.

Then he giggled about. "Sasà! I like that! And y’know, you have a really interesting way on doing things. You think just like me, get your mind off so you don’t ruin your day."

There was silence, shaken only by his arms crossed now crushing the soft leather backrest.

White points lost in his eye-sockets stared at them. "You think I hadn’t realized that you guys are rather nervous?"

That funeral way of looking began to irritate Jebediah, but had quite a worse effect on Asriel and Fion. The former felt like trapped, chained by bad memories. The latter fell into a deathly silence, unusual for him.

"Well, it's not really a good time this one,” Franco noted, still maintaining his air of naturalness. “Especially for the little ones."

"Sure. I’m well aware."

Sans paused. And for some reason, the skeleton had an unconvinced expression. His pupils just lingered lazily on them, checking them out one after the other.

“Well, well. There are so many things I wanna tell ya…” he said, fixing his gaze momentarily on Fion, making him gulp loudly, soon to play the same game of casual glances with Asriel.

At that, Jebediah tensed his posture, perched beside the armchair, wary like a silent hawk. His eye seemed to have been caught by something strange about that skeleton.

“So many that I can’t think of one,” Sans concluded, as soon as he stopped looking, leaving the sofa and standing upright. “Maybe next time. After all, you’re too uneasy and worried, and making you more anxious would be way too much for me.”

A likely accommodating thought, yet his deep and monotonous voice began to have the opposite effect of making them feel fairly uncomfortable. Save for Frisk, of course, become accustomed by now.

Either way, the skeleton still chuckled at their perturbed looks, as he put his hands in his pockets. “Hmm, looks like this family will become quite unusual,” he commented, with a semblance of easement, at least for what one can gather from the limited expressions of a skull. “And thinking about it... Franco."

It took him so off guard that the boy froze on the spot. "Aaaare you talking to me?"

"I’m talking to ya. You’re doing a good job with the children, so I’m spared reassurin’ all of ya. You two better believe what he says, okay?” Sans said with a wink, pointing to Asriel and Frisk, all of sudden at the heart of his concerns.

“In any case,” – he addressed again the boy soon after – “Bang on cue, you aren’t plannin’ to stick with that towel all the time, right? How about I'll lend you my clothes?"

Franco tilted the head. It took him a moment, and in the moment following he exhumed his arsenal of dazzling teeth and fulsome praise. " _Mizzica_! You do me honor with such a gift, I'll take it gladly! Thank you so much for the favor, I'll remember it! And just for anything, don’t hesitate to ask, I'd do anything for a good friend!”

"That's okay buddo, chill. What’s there to thank?” the other replied, unconcerned. "They could be a little short for your size, but I’m the sort of guy of loose clothing so to stay comfortable. I’m short and stout, but only because I’ve big bones."

The joke hit home, but produced only nervous giggles.

"Oh welp. Tough crowd," Sans said, neutral.

Taking a quick look at the pendulum, humming at the time, he stretched his back popping his joints. "Okay, gotta go. I'll be back soon, don’t get into trouble."

With short, tired strides to the door, he closed it behind him, beyond which he could not hear loud sighs of close call.

A question mark bigger than Frisk’s face nearly did not paint itself on it. "Hey, will you tell me what’s with you guys? You’we all so tense!" she exclaimed, innocently giggling afterwards.

She did not get much, apart from droopy eyes and some non-accepting head shake. The hope to relieve their moods, which rode runaway for various reasons, failed miserably.

A verse of suspended uncertainty followed her attempt, but being a determined little girl, she rebounded with furrowed brows, decisive gaze and fastened lips. "What are you woried about? It was kind of him to check us, and I’m pwetty sure this time he’s not pwetending to be nice!"

“Well that’s just great, pretending?!” Fion broke angrily his stubborn mutism, lifting arms in the air all the while. "Dang it Frisk! I find nothing peaceful in all this!"

Frisk stood dumbfounded.

Fion bit his tongue, aware that his tone up to now was far too exaggerated, which he imagined was already drawing the ire of the other three.

Fortunately Frisk’s legendary plain face gave no room to upsets of sorts.

Surprised by the self-control of a girl more or less six years old, the boy quietly took a breath and rephrased more calmly: "I mean, believe me when I say that that was too close for comfort."

Bringing the conversation to an end, he repressed her euphoria. "But..." she uttered, almost whispering, but what she wanted to say died in her throat. Resignation came back, and with head down, her eyebrows knitted together until she squinted.

She simply did not understand him, and she did not know the why.

Looking at her now, Franco was heartbroken, but he was at his wit’s end. "Tch, I must have missed something," he uttered before another long sigh, in all this the most disoriented.

"Actually you ain’t the only one," Jebediah spoke, playing then with his tongue clicking on the mouth roof, brooding.

But for this time, the blond boy left aside curiosity, resolving to untie that knot of suspicion later on. "I reckon that presently we'll get nothin' from y’all. But ain’t any need to mope around, nkay?" he said, in the most reassuring way he knew, now kneeling at the foot of the couch and pulling closer Asriel, Frisk, and Fion.

And then, seeing Franco cold sweat for no apparent reason, he giggled. “And you Frankie, you’re still overdoin' just as much as ever. You almost didn’t kiss his feet."

He nearly retorted. " _E che palle Gebe_ , whatever! It’ll be empathy, for what I know!”

“... Really?”

“For them I mean, the children!” he corrected himself. “I talk a lot when I'm nervous, okay? What you preferred for me to do, look at him the wrong way, talk back harshly and spit him in one eye?”

At that point Frisk finally took a dim view. “Okay, anything goes, but enough is enough!” she objected, adding a groan of complaint. "Sans isn’t bad and doesn’t deserve this kind of tweatment, as if he did you wong! He accompanied me all the time looking after me so I wouldn’t mess up, and making me waugh a lot at it!"

"Eh, laughing," – Franco came to say, rolling and hands in sync – "More than making me laugh, he scared the pants off of me." Then he glanced at the towel. "Ah yes, I still haven’t them."

Frisk came closer, looking bigger and menacing. Then she squashed his cheeks with her hands, still disappointed.

She had no intention of yielding. Defending the honor of his friend, filled her with Determination.

"‘cause you don’t know him! Me too was scawed at first, but he just wanted to pwank me! He's just woried about us, and he only wants us to act nice! And maybe you guys don’t twust him ‘cause he’s a skeleton and upsets you!"

"Blblbl–" Franco tried to answer, but went as far as making a farty noise, until Frisk, determined not to laugh though with superhuman efforts, freed his mouth.

"Look that he doesn’t upset me, I have seen dozens of skeletons in my life!" he replied flatly, and in a way so teasing that her jaw hung down in utter befuddlement. "On the other hand he’s the first to express a concept. So spooooky!" he oohed.

Frisk straddled on his lap and scowled at him reproachfully. "Then you'we a dummy!"

She retorted with a showy pout, however she did not come to grips with Franco’s big hands, attracted like magnets to her cushy cheeks. "How dare you sulking at me?!" he jested, unable to be serious as his fingers flew over from the face to the armpits.

"Noooo! You can’t do this to me!” was the only thing she managed to say, before succumbing to the tickling and finally cracking up.

Despite her attempts at resistance, she could not escape his kneading-skilled hands. She could only aim for the counter-attack, against which not even Franco could do something.

Seeing them again in a good mood, warmed also the hearts of the other siblings, tepidly smiling at how much energy that child could contain. A simple, yet surprising child.

But they were taken with a start when they saw a bit beyond them, grabbing on to the corner of the hallway on the left, a red vermilion glove, and then suddenly the thick and smooth white dome of a skull. "LAUGHTER IS WHAT I HEAR!" he said shrill, almost nasally, scratchy. "WHAT IS THE REASON OF ALL THIS HILARITY?!"

Papyrus’ voice peeped, exclaiming to see them all perched on the couch. "AHA, HUMANS! I SEE THAT YOU ARE ACCUSTOMING TO YOUR NEW HOME!"

"Ah, Papyrus!" Franco anticipated everyone, for reasons he knew well. "At least one friendly face," he said, experiencing this way Frisk’s pinch on his cheek and a good raspberry.

"YOU ALL TOGETHER LIKE THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!" the skeleton squeaked with open arms and with a wooden spoon clutched in his hand.

But he reassessed the tone, besides he had a role to pursue. "AHEM! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS UTTERLY PLEASED TO CHECK ON YOUR SAFETY! PREPARATIONS FOR TONIGHT ARE TRULY UNDERWAY, AND I AM CONFIDENT THAT THEY WILL BE COMPLETED BEFORE THE RETURN OF THE KING, AND QUEEN, AFTER THEIR CHAT WITH SANTA CLAUS!

"HOWEVER! A CONCERN THAT IS PRESSING ME AT THE MOMENT IS TO FIGURE OUT WHERE MY BROTHER HAS GONE. A MOMENT AGO HE WAS BEHIND ME STARING AT THE POT… GRUMBLING."

"Oh don’t mind it Pappy," – Frisk interjected – "He thought of going home to get some cwothes for Franco!"

"WHAT?! AND HE DID IT OF HIS OWN VOLITION?!" he exclaimed, with more and more pounding surprise. "THIS IS NOT LIKE HIM! STUPENDOUS! THE EFFECTS OF THE SURFACE ARE PAYING OFF!"

And in a moment, enjoying with arms folded a breeze that it was not really there, his pupils shining with positivity, inhaled air to declaim an important announcement. "SO, AND IF THIS IS SO, THEN WE ALSO MUST EXCEL OURSELVES! HUMAN, I MEAN… FRANCO!"

"Everyone’s calling me, all night long," the other thought aloud, finding himself with a clothed finger pointing at him. He took Frisk and laid her on the cushion and, infected now by such zealous heroism too, he stood up. "Tell me _compà_ , what inflames your heart enough to invoke me with such confidence?"

"COOKING, WITHOUT A DOUBT! I WANT TO MAKE YOU PARTAKER OF THE FEATS THAT ARE DEVELOPING IN THE KITCHEN RIGHT NOW! COME WITH ME, SO YOU MIGHT APPRECIATE THE RESULTS!"

Franco’s chest swelled after that response, while making sure not to lose the towel on the way. "Of course! Lead the way, _Papirieddu_!"

"PAP... EERIEDOU?"  – the skeleton tried to repeat – "ER... THAT’S A PECULIAR WAY OF CALLING ME, I FIND IT... INTERESTING."

"Oh, sometimes certain words come out like that," the boy said, who meanwhile shortened distances. "It's just a… ‘friendship name’?"

"YOU MEAN… A PET NAME?!" The skeleton exploded with a big smile worthy of a skull for all that confidence given in just one day. "IT IS USUALLY BETWEEN FRIENDS TO TAKE ON NICKNAMES, AND YOURS IS... ORIGINAL! I FEEL HONOURED!"

"Oh you! That’s a bit over the–" the boy paused. A chuckle almost escaped him. "You know, you're right, it is important between friends to show this kind of affection!"

"CLEARLY, WE HAVE MORE IN COMMON THAN YOU THINK! HOW WONDERFUL! AND IT WILL BE EVEN MORE SO BECAUSE YOU GIVE ME THE IMPRESSION OF A RENOWNED EXPERT IN THE FIELD OF SPAGHETTI!"

"My dear friend, know that I’m crazy about it."

"AND THEREFORE, WITHOUT FURTHER DELAY, FOLLOW ME IN OUR GLORIOUS BATTLEFIELD! TO THE STOVES!" Papyrus proclaimed heroically, taking Franco’s arm.

"That sure is enthusiasm," the boy said to himself, going, or rather getting pulled by the skeleton, to the kitchen, disappearing around the corner and accompanied by the others’ giggling.

Frisk in particular was smiling as ever, laughing in her sleeve as her offhand siblings discovered little by little how entertaining were those monstrous, and a bit weird, friends.

Her optimism was enough to infect them, so much so that staid Jebediah smiled warmly back at her, finally sitting down in the place left vacant. "I see you really like that Papyrus, Frisk."

"Who wouldn’t," – interjected Fion, who felt the urge to talk – "He looks nice to me already."

"You can say that again!" Frisk suppressed any doubts. "Papyus is no doubt the cutest, nicest and sweetest monster in the Undergwound!"

"HOW MANY SPAGHETTI YOU BOUGHT?!" Franco’s voice boomed from the kitchen, in a mixture of awe and wonder, evoking a scene that cracked them up.

"I woulda bet all my money on that!" said Fion in the grip of it, and adding sardonically: "If anything he’s better than his brother."

It attracted Frisk’s attention for sure. “You don’t happen to have a pwoblem with exposed bones?" the little girl gibed him, laughing uproariously.

"No way!" Fion roared in turn taking the joke. "On the other hand, the way he’s equipped is really comforting!"

Jebediah watched all of it, with a half-smile as the two argued in playful digs, with no sign of quitting. Considered the beginning of the evening, he could see some progress.

He felt sorry to see Asriel however, back to assisting passive, even if between the two disputants his muted laughter was not missing.

"Well Asriel," he said then, in a moment of break. "What do you think of Papyrus?"

Ears twitched as he heard that. The other two fell silent altogether, now curious to listen to an answer that, frankly, they already knew what it was. And in him, as it should be, memories resurfaced, once more.

Memories so intense at times that seemed a violence to his mind which, suffering, was trying to associate that certain insane coldness in feelings still childish, not accrued during his millennial sleep.

He looked at his brother, right in the eye. He hoped to hide his sadness, the guilt behind his vision, shining like the green mountain. "I... I think..." he stuttered, his voice almost hoarse, taken by a momentary tremor he quickly stifled.

Jebediah winced. "No wait, you ain’t need to–"

"He's the kind of friend that you'll never get tired of," Asriel concluded, with broadest smile.

His face lit up again. He was glad to say that with all of his sincerity, despite the harm to the innocent.

And to his surprise Frisk took his hand.

It would be that she remembered what Flowey had said, however the fact remains that Asriel immediately turned red like a tomato. At least with one of his big ears he could hide his face now.

"Aww!" Fion stepped in between once again, with a little bit of smugness. “Have you caught a fever all of–"

And he found Asriel’s other ear slammed on his face.

"Hey!" – he protested, spitting hairs – "What’s that for?!"

"You talk too much big brother," Asriel suggested with nonchalance, his smile become so much artificial to expose his soft dimples.

Words failed Fion. "What do you mean by–"

"heya kiddos, long time no see."

Fion was going postal any minute now.

He wasted no time in finding the train of his thoughts so to give him a piece of his mind and get it off his chest, but he struggled to find Sans’ skull behind the high pile of clothes he was carrying.

"I guess it’s still long to see..." the boy muttered softly.

Jebediah on his part, was quite dazed. The sound of a closing door is difficult to hide. "Heck, ain’t you pretty fast?"

"well, you could say i'm pretty pun-ctual," Sans confirmed with absolute calmness.

"Er... yeah." Jebediah shook it off. "Ruther, looks like you brought a purdy collection," he said, awed by the size.

"these you say?"

The skeleton placed all of it on the armchair without quite so much delicacy, puffing from the effort. "welp. couldn’t make up my mind and, y’know, didn’t wanted to look ‘clothes’ minded." Finger guns.

"How many of them he churns out every time?" Fion whispered to Asriel.

"You can’t imagine how many," he whispered in turn, and Frisk agreed with a nod.

"among things I also took Papyrus’ stuff for you skinny guys," Sans pointed out, then chortling on his own. "I do believe he’ll want to adopt you himself. but anyway... where's that barrel of laughs of a bro?"

"Ah _Sasà_ , here you are!" Said and done.

Franco arrived out of breath, leaving behind a cloud of steam, stifled by the door closing. In no time, he started to fumble the pile for sweatshirts and pants.

"Well well, this suits me," he said, holding up a suit that should fit. "Thanks a lot _compà_. The cold is blowing in my bones!"

Sans stared at him amused. "i’m with you on that buddo." Rimshot.

"You got a point. But you admit I delivered it to you on a silver platter."

He conceded that, with a pat on the shoulder and a wink. "Heh, get rid of that stuff and go get changed now."

"Yessir!" the boy replied, followed by a "FRANCOOO!!!" from upstairs that they swore could have shook the house walls.

The boy complained with a humph. "And of course it’s me," he complained, and ran for it. "Coming!"

The staircase dimly creaked, as dimly echoed from the bathroom Sophie’s rhetorical question: "What did I tell you?!"

"I have it, I have it!" was pointed out, immersed in a mix of other unrelated sounds of angry remarks, laughter about it and sighs, and of one who obviously tried to dress while hopping.

A door opened, and so another one in the midst of miffed comments, giggles and apologies, and after that a door slammed shut.

The boy came back, barefoot, again with the others downstairs laughing already through their eyes, leaning stone-faced on the armchair, with Sans’ tracksuit, actually identical to his, and a bit short. "As I said before, _beddamatri_!"

"We heard that," Jebediah agreed with a nod of the head, a cheeky smile on his face.

" _Tutti mi chiedono, tutti mi vogliono_!" Franco hummed, pretending it was nothing and laughing at his own jokes, quickly moving again toward his future kingdom. " _Papirieddu_ , what happens?" he added, venting for another moment another cloud of steam.

"Well, no harm, no foul," argued Jebediah, now the one who rummaged through the clothes. "Fion, hurry up ‘cause you have to teach me how to do it."

That casual sentence came to the redhead. "Hold, hold on a sec… we must take a shower?" he inquired baffled, as he cringed steadily.

"If everybody does it, I ain’t see why we shouldn’t," the blond replied.

Fion did not answer. He hoped only to hole up in some coin slot while sinking in the sofa big cushions.

"Hey Frisk!" Asriel called suddenly, attracting the attention of his little sister. "Let's do something, how about giving some water to Flowey? He'll be dying of thirst, poor thing."

Frisk giggled, and accepted the proposal, letting him take her by the hand towards the inanimate Golden Flower in a corner of the room.

And about Sans... he was fine with it. Again he stood with his hands in the pockets and glimpsing rovingly the young humans. And then, going to sit quietly at the table, to continue his nap.

The staircase creaked yet again, marking in time with high and low notes muffled steps, stopping at the arrival on the ground of the three sisters, decked up with colourful clothing larger than them, apart from Yukiko that fit perfectly Frisk’s size.

At worst, they were plainly surprised and intrigued, seeing again those other faces, anything but disheartened.

"What’s the matter with everybody?" Sophie asked, taken by all that sudden vivacity, lobbing the question to anyone who wanted to take it up, while still struggling with her and Vérane’s clothes and belts, so at to not stumble.

"We’re waiting for Mom and Dad!" Asriel stated cheerful giving away a lively look to her, still busy with Flowey’s topsoil. "A bird told us! Or rather, a bird told Franco."

Sophie could only scratch her head, clueless. "Are you… serious?"

"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie..." Jebediah uttered, patiently, pinching the cheeks of the other two smiling gals. "Don’t you know that birds don’t tell lies?"

The big sister, at first speechless, shrugging and sighing, helplessly amused, humoured him.

"And that’s as good as it gets darlin’. Now..." – Jebediah picked it up again, putting the chosen clothes on his shoulder – "C’mon Fion, it’s our turn."

"Look, I’m not doing any shower with you!"

"Bub, stop bein' such a lunk-head!" he told him, bored but persuasive, using another of his compelling nods aiming at the bathroom, to which Fion, reluctant and puffing, had to obey.

And while the ginger boy climbed the stairs muttering, Jebediah paused only for a moment to watch the scene, heartened by the fact that everyone was indeed enlivened, more or less, busy with all those ways to pass the time.

A nice family setting, all things considered. Where only two more tiles were needed to frame it.

There was movement that night, the sounds coming out dull. And anxiety was trampled by a renewed hope.

That unexpectedly came at the door.

“Knock, knock.” A knuckle beating on wood.

The loud background noise subsided instantly. All their muscles stiffened, holding their position into place, while only ears sharpened. Then, the heads of those who had it behind turned. Impatient, the hearts in their chest seeming like a race of runaway horses, eager with swirling breath inside their nostrils.

Who began to take the first move, who rose from their crouched stance, who retraced their steps down the stairs, all made their way to the source of the sound.

Six humans and a prince of monsters, tensed and troubled, arranged in a semicircle in front of the sober and solid door of a new beginning.

"Knock, knock," it thundered again.

"okay, i got this."

Sans was on the back. He got ahead as they, yielding, opened the passage, so that he could fulfil the gesture of responsibility of the most mature in there.

By answering the door.

"ahem... who's there?" he asked, flat and placid, just in front of it, a hand firmly grabbing the handle.

Break of five, long seconds.

"Howie," was said softly from the other side, by a warm female voice.

To which all stared dazed.

Except Sans. "howie who?"

"Howie supposed to get in if you will not open the door?"

Sans snorted. "That’s a really good one. How do I say no?"

He started to accompany the door now open, so they could see them in their full height.

So he had the honour of welcoming the King and Queen of the Underground.

-[Undertale – Once Upon a Time Orchestral](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIwbmP3a62E)-

They were fashionably late, but in the end they came, like the freedom of monsters in the change of era, what for a child is the closest thing to normalcy, and also gentle and moving altogether: two old and still young rulers, but also spouses and parents, with a love bent but not broken, one under the other's arm.

They came forward thus, with countenance softened, emotions pulling up their cheeks to slit mellowed eyes, glistened and watery.

Two chipped columns, but still standing and paired again.

Asriel was the first. He could not take it anymore. The sleepiness after coerced vigil, the waiting, the insecurity, the inner impulse, the desire, the hope still alive...

He jumped, agile and light, onto the mother's neck, pulling toward him the father’s beard, rubbing their noses, hair tousled.

Frisk just wanted to cry, ecstatic, to that scene that yanked her heart.

Asgore’s big hand, so tempting, invited her, and when she was just a little closer, he raised her up to their heads.

Those others, martyred children, no matter how old or young, had just as well a hard time to pull themselves together. They also needed a hug, warm and cozy amid that pearl-like hair.

" _Par bonheur_!" Vérane uttered, breathing out a long sigh of relief when only in their arms, broken by a sob. "Is that any way to walk away Daddy?!"

Grief-stricken, sternly battering with fists his armour, red eyes filled with tears, brought a lump to his throat.

"I'm sorry," – he said, suffering the hits, eyes-closed and helpless – "I'm so sorry."

“Of course you’re feeling sorry pa!” Fion sulky asserted, giving a head-butt on the chest plate. “What the heck!”

Neither the only missing human was not long in coming, suspicious of how the earlier bustle quietly settled.

"Aha! I’ve been telling you!" Franco really shouted this time from the rooftops, as soon as he came out of the kitchen. “I’ve been telling you, I was so sure of it!" he repeated to convince himself and, chortling with satisfaction, he rushed into the embrace, dragging Papyrus while at it since, in spite of himself, the poor skeleton was once again too close to him.

Not that he minded to feel out of place, caught by all those arms. "WOWIE! I'M HAVING A SO AWKWARD TIME BUT I DON’T REALLY CARE!” he said with the occasional tear over puppy eyes, snatching a laugh out of Sans, and a hushed tear too in fact.

In such a moment of warm-heartedness, maybe Jebediah was the only one saying nothing, the only one stoically calm in there. But behind his thick skin it was just all a facade, serving a higher purpose, as Asgore and Toriel recognized right through his azure irises.

Asgore just felt the need to hug him anyway, sinking the boy's face on his neck, so that the others could not see it.

Toriel gently stroked the hairy heads of the daughters under her. "What are you still doing up?" she asked them all of a sudden, with the affectionate gentleness of a mother.

Sophie sniffed. “You had us worry so much, both of you! We were so upset we couldn’t even know how to make the hours go!”

“My poor children,” she replied, continuing to caress her. “Have you at least eaten?”

“Uh-uh, our stomachs have been in knots the whole time," – Sophie told her – "And we wouldn’t have feel right leaving you eat alone. No matter how it’d have turned out."

With Asriel safe in Asgore’s arms, Toriel bent to give a kiss to her and little Yukiko, who all in all had been peaceful and smiling clung to the monster's leg, as if to say she did not doubt them even for a second.

“We will just have to rectify it," – she said to her children, carefree – "But I can see a white smoke coming from the kitchen, and aroma of tomato sauce. So you did not stay with your arms folded, rather you made something warm for supper! You are a real surprise!"

"Oh well, thank goodness that Papyrus has decided to put the pasta in!" Franco chimed in, friendly shaking the skeleton’s shoulder who, humbly, ran the hand on the back of the head.

"OH MY, THERE'S NO NEED TO THANK THE FORESIGHT OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS! THAT WAS ONLY MY DUTY!" he said a little awkward.

But a thought struck him. "BY THE WAY. IN FACT I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY WE'RE ALL SO EXCITED. WEREN’T KING ASGORE AND QUEEN TORIEL COMING BACK SOONER OR LATER FROM SANTA CLAUS’ HOUSE? AND INDEED I MUST SAY THAT THEY WERE TOO FAST: ISN’T THE NORTH POLE VERY FAR FROM HERE?"

By just assuming the posture worthy of the Thinker, Toriel curled her mouth for a chuckle. "Papyrus, Papyrus, my innocent Papyrus with a heart big as the moon!" she told him tenderly, going to hug him together with his perplexity.

"ER... MY THANKS, I GUESS?"

"I told you, Papyrus, we would have done well to increase the portions," – Franco whispered obvious to both – "And, uhm… I imagine that at this point we should set up the table. I know it’s not the best time to say this, but I am fainting with hunger."

"Oh," Toriel uttered, falling back down to earth. "You are absolutely right, by this time you are probably starving!" she realized, worried again, and soon after chirping sprightly. "We could use the good china and, in view of the late hour, how about giving me a hand? We will get everything ready in no time!"

Asriel and Frisk approved it with an ovation, and going down the wide pauldrons of Asgore, they invited anyone who was willing to share their enthusiasm, to which Yukiko promptly joined.

Not to mention Fion that was all fired up. "Yay! Let’s set the table!” he agreed, shaking his fists agog. “And who cares about the shower!"

There was another knock, this time on top of his hard head. "Ow! What’s up now?"

"You wish," – said Jebediah, with his usual attitude – "We’re the only stinkin’ fellas here, and if we ain’t tryin’ to make them feel sick, we won’t eat until clean as a hound's tooth. Got it?"

"The heck? Is a hound’s tooth clean?!” he piped. “Uff, what a bore! We’ll miss our first 'sticking all together'!”

Jebediah looked at him askance. "You should have thought of it before, lil bub."

As usual, muttering, he did what his brother told him, shuffling feet and bandages with elephantine pace.

Franco rubbed his hands. "Right, if it’s all set now that everyone is busy, we can return to our tasks Papyrus!"

"NYEH? –” the skeleton saw him dart in front of him, and wincing gave chase “– HUMAN! YOU OUGHT NOT TO RUN SO FAST! YOU MIGHT HURT YOURSELF!”

The collective rush spread like wildfire to every corner of the house, but Asgore stayed there, in front of the door still open.

"Why are you so quiet?"

He noticed Vérane’s hand, as big as four of his fingers, squeezing his. He espied her smile full of melancholy, eyes still shining, looking at him with apprehension within.

Gently he wiped them, smiling good-natured while doing it. "There are so many things spinning around in my head. One of them is having been so reckless."

Sophie had not moved from there either. "You had your reasons. Even tho I was the penultimate of souls, I know you hadn’t lived it well at all, so… it’s okay. Don’t sweat it."

His hand now encircled her shoulders. "I know, but indeed I should stop acting so impulsively. However do not worry anymore, –" he turned, and closed the door behind him “– I promise I will not leave you, and be sure of that. Now go to your mother, you have not relished the time with her as much as you did with me!"

He chuckled at his own joke, and laughed at himself, a laughter bitter just the same. And with another caress, he pointed them to the sideboard and a busy Toriel.

They gave him one last look, satiated by that one gesture, and left.

He followed them unmoving, and heartened listened to Toriel’s voice twittering. "But look at them, How did I not see that you are wearing my clothes?" she asked adoring, spontaneously folding the hands on her own cheek. "Quite the beautiful young ladies!"

Vérane took it so seriously that toe-curled with embarrassment. Sophie, simply, tittered, still wondering how they could dress up like that, with wrinkled hems and flaps sprouting from all sides.

Asgore exhaled upon that familiar sense of serenity that he had not felt for a long time. Like a knot around the heart, which however did not hurt anymore, and that maybe over time it would untie. But the shame of his flight, perhaps coward, or perhaps radically intrepid, already diminished, acclimatising while unhurriedly he searched for his place in such a new life.

"well, i’m gonna say that this is the grandest of your deeds, king."

Sans was there to draw his attention, after remaining tactically aside for obvious reasons. "in my humble opinion at least."

His amused expression instilled him good humour. "You can say that!" Asgore said, giggling at the idea.

"heh, I'm glad you agree with me," – Sans chuckled at that – "just wait until all monsters know. and so the humans."

The giggle become even more nervous. A time when the world will demand an explanation would have come eventually, and he, Asgore, the King, could not make excuses forever. Sans gave him food for thought.

"Sooner or later we will come to terms," he acknowledged, sighing with delight. "But let us not fret about it now, we really need a long night of rest, after all the fuss."

“yep, can’t argue with that,” Sans nodded quickly to his words.

Meanwhile, the table was being prepared with them observant, spreading out a long white tablecloth and placing ceramic plates, steel cutlery and glass cups, cold drinks taken from the steaming kitchen and some scented candle.

Asgore felt guilty already. "Er, may I do something too? You are really working hard, while I am not doing anything,” he asked timidly.

"No Asgore, you have already done enough. You are allowed to take care of household chores tomorrow, but for the time being take some rest,” – Toriel did not want to hear, still too busy to turn on the candles – “Rather, go cast off all that tin on you.”

The peremptorily given advice, snapped the King to attention. "I obey!"

Obediently indeed, creaking while he swerved the table and reached for the handrail, up to barricade himself in the bedroom.

The so-called 'their' bedroom which, for understandable reasons, neither he, nor she, were willing to share.

He stood looking around puzzled for a minute. With all those new tenants, how they should organize themselves now?

In other words, that double bed, so padded and coloured with the hues of the sea, appeared very inviting.

Rather than worry about the armour, here and there he would have pandered to its swollen and soft pillows, fresh smelling sheets, the faint scent of chamomile and linden all around.

The mattress was calling him, relying on his physical pain.

"I guess, it is better to settle for the couch..." he said to himself, just embarrassed for even thinking it.

It took a while to loose all the components of his dented armour, placing them as best as he could with the crumpled cloak in a trunk and then moving on, with a chill on his bare chest, to the closet. The fact that they shared at least the wardrobe could be considered a little progress.

He spotted his beloved black pants for house use, large soft and warm, and a lax blue shirt just to feel comfortable.

Far more lighter, without the restraints to limit his movements, he breathed deeply the scented air, and cracked ached arms and shoulders. The appetite did the rest.

It pushed him back to the ground floor, already smelling the fragrance of the dinner that, intense, come out from the two large bowls sumptuously carried by Franco followed by Papyrus, and placed in unison and on display at the sides of the long banquet table.

“A _tavola_!" – the boy shouted – "Or in case you didn’t get that, ready on the table!"

Drawing from the uncovered bowls, they sank pasta ladles and generously portioned out sinuous vermilion spaghetti hugging tomato pieces and, while he was at it, Franco decorated with a basil leaf on top to complete their work of a simple, genuine and delicious dish.

Toriel for once stood back and watched, all happy that someone else had cooked for everyone. "Wonderful, wonderful!" she exclaimed, unable to resist the temptation to kiss the human on the head. "I am touched!"

"It really is an impressive sight," Asgore agreed, arrived at the middle of the table.

"Hurry Jebediah, they’ve already dished out for everyone!" Fion was heard, wearing hastily another of Sans’s sweatshirts, grotesquely wide sleeved. His brother followed suit with relaxed pace, whistling.

" _Gebe_ has understood everything. The shower is quite relaxing!” Franco said, complete with outstretched hand, to which Jebediah nodded dreamily, taking place behind a chair.

And behold, all was set, save for the eaters around the table.

“Honeybuns, just one more moment please," Toriel asked, keeping them from sitting.

She went beside Asgore, wanting to stay on his right. No expression ever was more intense, and understanding did not struggle to penetrate the veil of hesitation.

"I feel this is the time to start off on the right foot,” she spoke, holding his hand. "In those brief moments on the mountain, many things happened. It was there that we really come to terms with ourselves by reviewing our choices, and the inner pains that resulted from them. I became aware of them during my solitude, without ever discussing them, dealing with Asgore.

"When I realized that, in order to get out of Ebott, Frisk inevitably had to take a life, and that Asgore would eventually have offered his own, knowing him… that strange feeling, some would say stupid, that still smouldered inside me, infused courage to go back, leave the Ruins.

"And yet, after all these years, seeing my husband bent on wielding his trident against a child without malicious intent, I was shocked, angry, furious. In the heat of the moment I forgot all my resolutions, but then with a cool head… I realized that all evil, all of it, has fallen on his shoulders. He alone suffered it, and alone he faced it, on his own, up to that pivotal moment. I cannot hide it anymore, I am not devoid of my fair share of mistakes, and for that I have to say sorry to my husband, left alone with his grief."

No expression ever was sweeter. And if there ever was, the only possibility is to have forgotten it.

"For the same reasons," – Asgore spoke up then – "I owe a thousand apologies to my wife. The shock, the rage, the pain... They controlled my life in every decision I made. I was no longer the person who Toriel had known and loved. I let her go, when rather I should have run after her, be there collecting her tears of disillusion... instead of leaving her alone with her grief."

He felt her closer than she already was, snuggling against his body.

He still had more to say. “I remained convinced of my decision without hesitation, only to see it crumbling with the capture of the first soul, the death of an innocent child. Those deranged feelings acquired a whole new meaning that affected me so hard, that an unconscious fear for the Overworld had grown. Indeed so beautiful, perfect at first sight, and so diverse, I could not feel it as my own anymore. And because of one of my usual knee-jerk reactions, thinking of doing a favour to you, I deemed fair to leave you. Not knowing for how long.

“Yet, against all my expectations, she came, like the future that takes the place of the past. Love, who laughs in the face of Time."

She clung to his arm, red-faced and looking down, smiling. The beholders, patiently listening, were more and more visibly enraptured, nodding pleased some, dreaming with eyes open others.

"Therefore, obviously in addition to the conviction descended upon your heads, in addition to my guilt towards my wife, please accept you all my excuses for my escape, so totally unjustified. I promise from now on to take my responsibilities as a father, if you will consider me as such."

He actually did not expect to be greeted by thunderous applause, praising whistles and cheers. He was so surprised that he could not conceal an amused grin.

"You aren’t doing this just because you are famished, are you?" he joked among the shouts, dimly perceiving chuckles, but he believed those sincere eyes, unreservedly. "Well, happy to have encountered your understanding, I guess there is nothing else to keep us from enjoying this dinner all together!"

And with Franco displaying his clear as day satisfaction, they soon sat down at the table to taste the results of their work.

To tell the truth it was not easy for all the humans to catch the pasta, which refused to be captured or just slid down as soon as they lifted their forks.

But with the right wrist turns, using spoons in case and thanks to the advices of their neighbours, they could finally put something in their stomach.

"Little cutie, let me help you out,” said the boy-chef in front of the evident difficulties of Yukiko, who never handled such an instrument. "Poke the fork, which is this thing I'm holding in my hand, in the pasta tilting it a little, then you roll it making a beautiful bundle until there’s no strand left hanging. And then, what remains to do?”

The little girl replied with a significant demonstration: a morsel straight into her mouth.

"Well, _brava_! –” he praised her, and turned to the other diners “– Learn from her you guys!”

"Thank you, Franco- _san_!" she murmured, shy.

"Oh dear! She just spoke to me!” he exulted with a clap, unleashing her giggling all the while. "But, even called a Saint?"

At that Sophie noisily ended her sip of water. "Pff, Franco! What does this have to do with it? _San_ has to be an honorary title!” she said, grunting a laugh.

Frisk nodded, arms crossed. "Fwirst rule of anime."

"Anime, _anima_ … souls?" he inquired, a little perplex. "Oh never mind, I like this kind of honours!"

"Eeehm... By the way, there’s someone available to give me a hand, please?" Asriel politely asked, since he had given up by then.

“NO SOONER SAID THAN DONE! ALLOW ME TO HELP YOU, PRINCE ASRIEL!”

"Papyrus, really, there's no need to be so formal–" Asriel paused before the skeleton, with a ready forkful right in front of his snout.

In a single evening, Asriel imprinted in mind how one feels with all that redness in face. "I-I didn’t mean you to spoon-feed me..." he stammered.

"What do you care about, Azry!" – Fion addressed him – "Look, even Jebediah agrees." And with a surprise move he did the same as Papyrus.

Jebediah watched impassively. And just as quickly he put the thing in his mouth, sucking a droopy spaghetti and messing his brother’s hair, smiling cheeky.

That considered, and regardless of it, Papyrus’ pitiful look was already quite convincing. Asriel could only comply.

So he sighed, smiled, and made him happy biting and chewing it whole.

The skeleton was enthusiastic. "I MADE THIS WITH SUCH CARE, AFTER THOROUGH RESEARCH OF THE RIGHT COMBINATION OF FLAVOURS!"

Asriel said nothing. He was too busy to savour it, with taste no less.

“well paps, sure you know how to make a lil kiddo happy,” Sans said. “And to be honest it really tastes good. looks like you don’t need to ketch-up anymore in matters of cooking, bro.”

Papyrus did not even cast him a single glance, peeved. "UMPF. ON THIS OCCASION I DARE SAY THAT I GAVE MY BEST, DRAWING ON THE BEST FRESH INGREDIENTS AVAILABLE. THIS GREATLY IMPROVED THE QUALITY! NYEH HEH HEH!"

“that’s why I love you from my head to-mah-toes, paps,” Sans replied with a wink, batting the joke straight on the other side of the table arousing a burst of laughter and, still in the mood, he peeked at the other chef. “You feel the same about it, Franco bud?”

"Well yes, Papyrus handles it very well. We had some misunderstandings on cooking time, the amount of salt, the type of oil... And in fact he surprised me with his cooking methods that are, how to say... unorthodox?"

"NYEH?" Papyrus felt called into that. "IS SOMETHING WRONG?"

" _Papirieddu_ , I told you before!” –he reminded him, lenient and patient – “What did tomatoes do to you to punch them?"

The room exploded into a merry laugh, while Papyrus dismayed asked himself a thousand questions, the others in the meantime trying to cheer him up, realizing how combative the culinary creativity of impetuous Undyne could be.

Asgore, wordless the whole time, enjoyed their mirth, and this time he also cut loose with his hearty laugh. And when it died, an imperceptible else ensued, which he tried to mask with a hiccup.

It was a sob.

Yet despite the ages, so long, it could not be hidden from the ears of Toriel.

Unaware, he noticed it later, but his eyes met hers, her head bowed so to raise his, whole-souled in her tenuous smile.

Just as the small things make a full existence, thus lifeblood was re-infused into a family, split by years and reassembled within a day, just where the Mountain jaws had tightened and parted.

That single day was worth thousands of their long life, so much so that, after indefinite time, after laughing and laughing and laughing, asserted itself firmly that kind of unfettered happiness that drives someone to tears.

They were two now, his head resting on hers, sharing the same hidden emotion.

The reason was the most foregone a living being could think of.

They were home. They were finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite the long way, did you get bored?  
> A lot of stuff to digest, things going on, awkward starts… Yep, I think we set up the right mood.  
> Even if all the hype for Undertale is probably dead by now, I really hope you’ll enjoy the rest, like an escape to another world.  
> Must tell you that I'll post quite discontinuously: I am in the middle of a PhD. But I promise I will not disappear for years.
> 
> If you have any question, don’t hesitate to ask! It is my way to stay in touch.
> 
> ;-)


	2. New Beginnings

\- [Undertale - Determination [Soft Piano Arrangement]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvCnt7kSy4I) \- 

Darkness settled placid, a billowy mantle sprinkled with a handful of diamond dust, burdening the shoulders of trees and hills. Glittering specks that twisted along the milky embrace of the Galaxy, shimmering free from those thin cobalt cotton tatters, rapidly escaping Orion’s Belt. Not a light on Earth to disturb them, only one breath of wind that smelled of elms. To this mute spectacle the night was anything but silent, in the occasional serenade of crickets and rustling leaves to the gibbous Moon.

Thus resonated with renewed appeal to the two archaic figures of Asgore and Toriel, in civilian clothes sitting on the grass in front of the house, the yet most archaic vision of an obscured green valley, blending on the horizon with the shining sea. Ever recurring, ever dreamlike.

"Now that there is nothing but the infinite to cloak our heads, it feels weird," Asgore confided whispering to Toriel.

He took her by surprise, intent as she was, snatching an amused beam from her puzzled face.

So he breathed gratefully, still finding hard to believe that his aching legs could relax so freely on the fresh grass. They protested with a snap nevertheless, and with a groan from him.

"It really seems we had gone back hundreds of years." Toriel indulged in a contented sigh, laying her weary head on the knees close to her chest. "Stars remained the same as we left them. Ebott's vault, a bright parenthesis to remind us of them, every time."

He grunted in agreement, and delighted in silence, eavesdropping the lightness of sounds as well as worries.

No movement at all in the house this time, no lights to faze the sleep of their children, packed onto the few bunk beds at their disposal.

A vague taste of everyday life touched their lips, almost making them smile. A feeling that they were determined to try many more times again.

Indeed, that whole sequence of events called for it.

For this and countless other reasons, umpteen thoughts detained them to surrender to a night’s sleep. Unsaid words of a misplaced intimacy, which could not and would not vocalize in that act where each one’s own frailty is exposed. Lying in the same bed, relying on the honesty and loyalty of the other, even with all the good intentions, they knew it was a too revolutionary matter, right now.

Never say never however. A change of mind could occur throughout their hunt for the next constellation.

Asgore well knew that such a task was difficult. The racing heart was proof of it.

He had lingered too much along the way home with her. They were too emotionally tried, for sure, but he wished to say so many things that he could not unravel one from that tangle in his head. Only caution against tripping over roots or stumbling in the dark succeeded in forcing his tongue.

Not even the newfound confidence within the walls of home, which breathed with new and yet ancient presences, was enough to phrase one.

He fidgety twiddled his thumbs, he hoped for a spark of courage to put an end to the silent exile of their damaged marriage. But a glance on her pearl-like complexion, her nose upward, fixing her maroon eyes to the firmament, froze him on his tracks.

The Moon slowly but steadily ploughed the sky, never enough pleased to wash down its rays. But only then, in an ephemeral glow, he noticed… a slowly murmured tune delving inside his ears.

They offered no resistance, opening their gates and let it storm inside, desired invader of a reversed sally. One hummed song, gushed spontaneously behind trenched lips, velvety like wool, softened sounds of her voice that vibrated strings of familiar memories.

For hours, he would have stayed to listen. But his heart did not want to wait any longer.

“It has been a while since I heard you sing.”

She stopped. Better yet, her ears decided that the sweetness hidden in his powerful voice deserved consideration.

Asgore’s response was less subtle. He blushed at his own comment, stared dazed, and grated a sheepish grin.

"Oh… Gosh –" he stalled, torturing his indexes "– Now I am totally feeling the same way I felt when I first met you."

She blinked at him. "Oh dear," blurted with a smirk, a half smile, and then laughed.

Asgore mumbled with hands in his hair. He could not even gulp. "I knew I’d cut the branch I was sitting on with that."

"Ah, Asgore, do not make that face! I am laughing because, despite the centuries, you remained the same adorable clumsy monster of old!"

"Certain flaws are hard to die," he admitted resigned eventually, joining her in laughter.

“Um, maybe…” – she conceded, sly, succeeding at some point to stifle the laughter – “Do I really have this kind of effect on you?"

“Huh…”

Offhand, he did not know how to respond to her provocative, intrigued arched eyebrows.

"Okay, very well," – he calmly said to himself, palms down – "I know how obvious that may sound, but... you are the mirror of eternal youth, and I would say more, you are prettier than usual."

"Ah, you flatterer!" Toriel replied, a snort slipped out of her mouth. "Do I strike you in a trekking suit?"

Asgore looked down. Although they were made to be comfortable, her clothes did not fail on accentuating her full-figured appearance.

He facepalmed. "Oh gosh, what am I thinking?! Uh, it… it is not just about physical appearances–” he stopped halfway, not being able to emphasise with his half-choked stammer.

Toriel murmured amenably. She could not help but sweeten her sight, seeing the apparent clumsiness of her ex-husband.

Asgore let out a suppressed sigh. "The thing is, you are so feisty, gladsome. When you speak, you sound like you are singing. Your loving gaze of a mother is still unblemished, which is what I truly hold dear. You are... happy, not like I have seen you lately. You do realise that the physiology of a monster reveals clearly what is most beautiful to the eyes…”

Finally, he smiled to her, while she… tender soughed.

For so much, way too much time she missed the affection, the delicacy, the romantic side of Asgore.

It ended up buried along with that sense of magical amazement after the turn of events but, although a just whispered, tragic inkling persisted in every note, it was not dead, but furthermore enriched.

"I–" she began, interrupted only by a quick, sad suspire "– I too do not see any physical difference, no wrinkle that furrows your face. But inside, inside you have changed much. Melancholic, restrained, thoughtful, disenchanted… you have been scarred. I can feel it when you talk, when you look at me... And you cannot know how sorry I am for what I have done to you."

Asgore took her hands, and seemed to her that he was holding her very heart. "No Toriel, please do not say that. Because, to be honest, neither do you come out unscathed. The disheartenment is still there, the sadness cannot be erased. None of us can say to be untroubled, without our bruis–"

Without notice she hugged him, restraining him all of a sudden. It was no longer the time to take blames.

To his beaten look, she then answered: “Come now, Asgore. Do not feel bad. I still appreciate what you said.”

Her hands leaned against his cheeks now, because eyes can say more than words. “You know how to make a mother happy."

"Well, thanks. But..."

"But?"

"I wish I could also make a wife happy."

Asgore seized what she, out of shame, did not dare to name. Lips tightened into a corrugated line of muffled sorrow. Her hands went limp.

"Despite all that... you still consider me your wife?"

She questioned it with faint voice, genuine question without polemics, putting aside innocent and guilty, desirous of all those meanings that such word concealed.

He mustered all the courage at his disposal. "Would you still consider me your husband?"

It was in that moment that their gazes met truly. But this time his was so lively that the opacity, metastasized in her memories, was swept away.

“I do.”

She whispered it to him and to the wind. Even she could not believe she had been able to say that.

It did not matter anymore. Everything around her lost all meaning no matter how, completely absorbed with her senses, when he, all trembling, kissed her.

Even happiness that accompanies such an act, deemed proper to bow down to the bitter taste of those lips, full-bodied of that love healed, true ever the more.

The parting occurred as if it was another violence. For a great while they stared at each other, while the world around started again to take its course.

"Listen, Toriel..." he said, struggling to say a few words.

"Hmm?"

"What you have told me before, when we were on the mountain... You really meant it?"

Toriel gaped in dismay. "W-Why do you say so? Can we not do this dream too? Do you not believe me?"

"No, I firmly believe you, but I cannot promise you a happiness without trouble, although you surely know that. Like it or not, we had control in the Underground, and here will be different. Things that we could put a stop, now will be force majeure. We cannot put behind the new disagreements and tragedies that lie ahead. Not everything will be idyllic."

"I know, and I do not doubt it. But for the simple fact that we will try with all our strength, the effort will be worth more than all the gold in the world."

Asgore mumbled a forced assent. Toriel sensed how discouraged it was.

She softly groaned at him, nuzzling his muzzle thereafter.

"You see,” – she uttered, tittering at perplexed Asgore – “There is one thing I have realised experiencing loneliness. Life is like entering with hands outstretched in a thorny bush of flowers.

“These inflorescences, happiness sometimes large, sometimes insignificant and yet beyond counting, inasmuch I cannot keep them in mind, grains of a barely perceptible joy that the soul breathes in... Although you search for them surrounded by briars, coming out to be terribly scratched, at the end you smile at the yearned scent, feeling full of light.

“I am just too convinced that life is beautiful, even when it is bad. That birth is the miracle of miracles, living is the gift of gifts. Even if it is a very complicated gift, very exhausting, sometimes painful.”

Asgore softened like snow in the sun. "How, how much I missed words such as these!" he said. "They ooze of the light you speak of, the one that gave colour to New Home, now lying gray. Light that you have given to this unfortunate dynasty, with your presence. And with a child in your womb."

He spoke delicate, like the kiss given to her hands clasped in his. She like a graceful maiden, thinking now of all things passed. "Our destinies really were and have remained firmly intertwined, a chain that, despite tugged and worn by time, never broke. My heart cries with joy with just the thought that now it rests on a feather bed, no more of flowers. Our dear, little Asriel."

That just dragged him in that rejoicing together with her. Only through great effort, he suppressed the overflowing desire of his throat to tell her everything.

“Of all the ill-fated memories I possess,” – he reasoned – “For the mere fact of having witnessed birth, favoured even amidst its late grief over a blank nothingness, I never regretted to have wanted a son, with you as his mother.”

“Ah! How you stayed true to our promise, even after I doubted you! If it was your integrity as a King, your perseverance as a father, to take them back, I do not know... but I am glad, indeed happy, because now you are here for them, and for me.”

Every word they exchanged dug in, and it was indeed Asgore to feel seized with renewed energy and intent. Everything seemed to him surpassingly perfect.

He got up, tired of being huddled, pulling her in the open field so that the moonbeams could faintly, fully illuminate them.

"I want to be blunt, Toriel. To take our relationship into our own hands again, will not come all at once. Vicissitudes will always be here, lurking. Even though we are still ourselves, we both changed. But some things remain."

She let herself be carried away by the new state of things, chuckling and wondering about who knows what crazy reason he was so excited for.

"Tori, to see you every morning was like falling in love for the first time. I fell in love every day, of each merit and flaw of yours, of you that have become my everything, and time did not graze it. What happened was like being torn away from my own soul, and now that is mended I do not know what to make of me without you and these children. I give my thanks to Frisk, to goodness and heavens, to the Hyperuranion and whoever else that graced me to see you again. And aye, by golly! Tori you are beautiful, as beautiful as the day I married you."

Chained to her eyes, to her face flushed with embarrassment, he knelt before her.

"For it seems we just met again, now then! My beloved, I renew here, under this spotless and mysterious Moon, my promise: I will not fail to respect you and honour you all the days of this life, whose hours strike again. I will help and support you in the asperities that will not miss to try to bend us. I will nourish our bond with the entire magic at my disposal if necessary, so that nothing will oppress and wear it.

“And, I will accept whatever this choice entails, and patiently endure every grudge for my mistakes that might still abide, striving to remedy them for as long as the time we have left."

He drew the biggest sigh of his life. She suppressed her own gasp with the hands.

"Toriel, do you want to continue this journey with me?"

"Oh Asgore!"

She threw herself with arms open on his neck, tumbling both of them with a thud on the fresh grass, laughing their head off.

And soon after, however, they stood stunned.

A callow voice sang loudly: "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore!

“When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine, that’s amore!”

They realized upon sight of the windows aloft, that the children were standing leaning on the sill, and Franco flinging himself about for inspiration.

"Come on brother!" – Vérane complained – "You interrupted them at the best part!"

"Little sister listen to me, or actually as you’d probably say, _laisser faire_! Back home, a declaration is always accompanied by a serenade!”

"But you could have waited!"

"Nah, that was taking too long."

Toriel wanted to say something about all this, but she could not because the laughter was struck in her throat. She laid down defeated on Asgore’s chest, who was unable as well to focus forces to stand up.

"Well, now I lost the track, how was it again?" Franco spoke, completely oblivious of what they were suffering down there.

Unbeknownst to him, Sophie joined the chorus: "When the stars make you drool just like a pasta and fasul, that's amore!

"When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet you're in love!"

"Ah yes!" – the boy realized, at the top of his lungs – "When you walk in a dream but you know you're not dreaming signore… Scusami, but you see, back in old Neapoli that’s amore!"

If it had not been so overwhelming. Even all the others started to get the hang of it, chanting and playing all wrong notes, until the noise was such that the lights of nearby houses turned on and, rather than join them, they began to hurl protests.

"You think this is the right time to make all this goddamned racket?!" shouted one.

"There’s people who want to sleep here!" yelled another.

"Shh! My children are asleep! Shut up, please!" shrieked in the most muffled possible way yet another one.

Laughing indeed makes for good blood.

"Tori, I haven’t see you so cheerful in centuries!" – Asgore struggled to say, interrupted by his chortles under the mix of voices that gave no sign of decreasing – "You remind me of so many things!"

"No more so than you!” – she replied, taking advantage when she could of the little air funnelling through the lungs – “Just like the first few times we dated, you tried to look romantic while I fell head over heels, in the chorus of dins of maddened people! We were helpless just as today!"

Immersed in sounds and memories, loosening a smile while hugged tight under a playful moon and the spring breeze, in such a way they consecrated their new beginning.

Because in life there is nothing but beginnings.

And about the hardships of the past, and those that might ever come, is easily said: a laughter will bury them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
> Admit impediments. Love is not love  
> Which alters when it alteration finds,  
> Or bends with the remover to remove:  
> O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,  
> That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;  
> It is the star to every wandering bark,  
> Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
> Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
> Within his bending sickle's compass come;  
> Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
> But bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
> If this be error and upon me proved,  
> I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
> 
> Sonnet 116 – William Shakespeare
> 
> These two surely had to put their mind at rest. In a sickly sweet manner, just the way they like it, I guess.  
> But let things go, because many other turning points, serious and crucial, await.


	3. Many Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a lot to taking up the story again, but here’s the third chapter.  
> Things may get fishy.  
> Enjoy!

Darkness cloaked the room, up to the blind dimness behind the curtains.

A faint wooden creaking followed the thud of whom, unconsciously, grope with their hands on soft cloth.

"Ronf."

A snore pressing came in from one nostril. And then, a guttural "Snort."

Asgore was dead to the world. Sprawled in all his might and moistening the dry mouth, he slowly conquered the free regions of the bed.

He was enjoying that moment lying on his stomach, after so many trials to count and sleeping in the open without sheets. Yet his eyelids squeezed frantic, exposed to those sparse, annoying flickers of light that grew in intensity as time passed.

Asgore groaned eventually, and with one "Yawn," similar to a roar, he woke up. He needed only another couple of minutes to realize where he was, sampling all the while his morning breath. "Yuck, talk about ‘as fresh as a daisy’. But this mattress sure felt amazing.”

Ripe and ready, after a rewarding sleep.

Without protests from said mattress, he rolled over and sat up. Still befuddled with sleep, he actually had a hard time getting a grip of all the happenings of last night. He vaguely recalled Toriel saying something like conceding him half of that so accommodating and soft to the touch queen-sized bed. His head laid on the pillow was the last thing he remembered.

The plaid pajamas on him either was some subconsciously effort on his part, or just Toriel having pity on him. As for now, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Had I overslept?"

His whole bulk drooped at the thought. He rubbed the forehead just as instinctively, still figuring out what time it might be. He began looking for some footwear to put on under the bed, finding nothing.

Grumbling away his annoyance, he put the paws on the floor. "I am sure I will regret it."

Fumbling in the half-light he made his way around the bed and drew the curtains with firm hands only to be blinded by the sun for a second. It had just passed the tips of the elms, and a strip of its rays tore from the dark the gentle peaks of the mounds behind the woods. With such a fair weather it was high time to open the window to change the stuffy air inside.

So he did, and let the fresh and crisp breath of wind of the new day come inside, getting carried away eyes-closed by the shrill song of thrushes. In short, he realized to be goofing off a bit too much.

The alarm clock on the bedside table, counting the minutes undeterred, gave him the appraisal he needed about the time. A modest 9:31 am.

"Lucky me, I thought it’d be much worse."

Soon he doubled back, retracing his steps and kneeling the edge of the bed in the process. “Curses! Go and tell these humans that their houses are not tailored for people like me!”

But at least he had been granted a place to live at the moment, so he just swallowed it and went to the wardrobe. “Well then, if my memory serves me right, I saw something fuzzy in there. Now let’s see, if I move this one here, and this one there…”

There he had it right: a pair of pink bunny-shaped slippers, shoved into a pocket behind clothes. He felt funny just by looking at them, but chuckling at the thought he wore them and, now ready and adjusted to the light, he left the room.

The door was ajar, swaying smoothly. Very little else could be heard apart from it. Maybe the kids were still asleep? All in all, a comfortable bed would be the first time for them in ages. As for Toriel, she might have gone out somewhere, but as soon as he approached the staircase a distant, feeble clinking of dishes and cups put him on alert.

Gently placing his paws on the wooden corridor, which at least were muffled by the slippers, he went downstairs with careful pace, gliding the palm on the handrail till grasping the knob. Since he was too tall and broad to stick his head out, only after bending to the last steps he found relief.

The table was laden again, recently apparently. The morning light gave it a whole new twist, but he ignored it. It looked like that, at least, he will not have breakfast alone, however everything was too quiet, apart from the noise he heard before.

Still feeling like a giant in a china shop, he went to investigate after pausing a moment, but suddenly he felt something tugging his nightclothes.

His quizzical expression deepened as he felt them wiggling playful. More amused than surprised, Asgore played along, blindsided by a tiny assailant who was beginning to climb up his back. He snickered through the nose listening to the laboured but eager gulps of air now close to the ears.

"Hmm, what have we here?" he wondered, fumbling with the hands behind his back until he grabbed hold of them as if they were a ripe fruit. He could not suppress an exclamation of realization before the little darling Yukiko who just replied: "Daddy _yagi_!"

"Ah little monkey! You wanted to take me by surprise!"

She nodded, pretending to be serious. The little girl was surely unable to hide her cheerfulness, sprinkling through her inky narrow eyes peering intensely. Asgore however was far more surprised by the soft dark circles underneath them that sharply contrasted with her bright peach skin, and he felt obliged to fix the small ponytail on top and the polka-dot pajamas. "My honeybun, why is a slip of a thing like you up so early?”

She brooded about it a short while, stammering some foreign phoneme. " _Eèto_ … I like to get up early in the morning," she said then.

"Seriously? So early that you are the only one awoken?” he asked, receiving a nod as a response. "Would not it be better to go back to sleep then?"

"Nooo!" she corrected him, pointing over his shoulder and then around, to the series of windows, mimicking a pulled cord. "I opened them, and then, I looked out!"

"Ah, the blinds! Just to look the beautiful green and bright world outside. Well, you have been busy then!"

She nodded again, really meaning it.

“But then, are not you feeling tired yet? You look like you had quite a rough night. Did the others let you sleep cosily and warm?”

Despite his growing apprehension, Yukiko replied with equal serenity and calmness. “Yes, they were nice. No worries Daddy.”

He brushed her soft cheek with a finger. "Well, alright, this is fine. I am happy that you can understand everything I say, anyway. And maybe you manage to understand even when words fail to say."

"Daddy loves his family," she added, proudly, with all the peace that could convey.

His feelings are rarely wrong. His forehead, broad and white, touched hers, bowed to her perspicacity. "My dear child. Out of the mouths of babes oft times come gems."

Yukiko agreed with a murmur, preferring to play with his thick blond beard, so close to her now.

"For you, it was almost taken for granted," he whispered, uttering only a few faint cries and giggling in the meantime. "So, did the others wake up?"

"Mm-hm," she mumbled, intent on braiding his beard. "Some of them. There's Mommy _yagi_ , Jebediah- _san_ , Sophie- _chan_ , Franco- _san_..."

She stopped to list, way too sluggishly, really focused on what she was doing. Her way of naming everyone like that made Asgore curious, it sounded a bit funny at the beginning, and since reading anime was not really his great passion, he did not grasp the meaning.

But he did not think about it much, rather he continued with his original purpose, to find out the source of the sound, more and more similar to voices of busy chatter, coming presumably from the kitchen. With Yukiko now firmly holding onto his thick neck, he went to the door, and neither this one creaked as it slowly opened with his head protruding awkwardly. "May I come in?"

"Good morning!" Toriel answered after a short puff, without looking at him. She was completely engrossed with whipping some fresh batter, but she was clearly in a good mood.

After a sharp blow of the whip on the rim of the bowl, she finished with it, loosening up and giving him some deserved attention with a tilt of the head. "I was afraid we would have breakfast without you."

Maybe it was just his impression, but the light bouncing on the yellow and orange tiles on the walls brought out her smile. But also the eyes. And the snout. In short, anything.

"We should have our very first breakfast all together," – he said promptly – "Missing it would have been quite unbecoming of me."

Toriel stared embarrassed. "Well, after everything that has happened, you have every right to permit yourself a few more hours of rest. I had not the heart to wake you up."

"Oh, but do not worry about that!" he replied cheerfully, determined to take the point across with such conviction that Yukiko started to laugh, tickled by his beard. "It’s just… I would not miss this moment for the world!"

Toriel relented before that picturesque scene. She smiled to her husband monster and human child in the bright kitchen, a scene that could very well be impossible, and that yet she had already seen, in a past that no longer exists.

Strange beasts, the Deja-vus. Vaguely reminiscent of something already lived, but forerunners of unexplored alternatives.

"Good morning pa!" Franco broke her trance. He had just popped out from the door of the pantry, merry as usual. He stood to say something else, but then saw their puzzled looks. "Ah, you were talking, excuse me. Please continue."

“Good morning to you, son!” – Asgore said, infected by his casualness – “There is no need to be sorry!”  

Toriel let out a giggle. "I accept your apology, my child." A bit of disappointment though accompanied her attention, seeing the boy empty-handed. "I thought I had enough eggs, to our misfortune. I wish I could prepare many other delicacies."

"Eh, what are we gonna do about it, cake and pancakes will do," the boy replied without a thought.

"Oh, so this is what I am smelling?" Asgore sharpened the nose, now that a familiar scent seeped from the heated oven. "Is it what I think it is?"

"Oh my, always thinking about food, you!" – Toriel told him with playful reproach – "Certainly this habit has never abandoned you. I hope you missed me not only for my Cinnamon Butterscotch Pie. "

Asgore in response planted a quick kiss on her lips. "Of course not, silly."

In all this, Franco’s goofy grin said it all. "Yeah, hard to hide the smell. But now, with your permission…” he said approaching the two, eyeing Yukiko. “I’ll just take the child, can I?"

"Want to cuddle her you too?" Asgore replied, giving her in his arms.

"Well, obviously! And it is time that we make a little survey of what we have at home, right Yukiko?"

She put on a pout. " _Onii-san_ , I want Daddy _yagi_ ’s beard."

"Later my joy, papa has just woken up." All in all, he did not need much effort to convince her, she agreed immediately to be carried away without protest. "You sure are peaceful! Now, if the parents will excuse us, we're going to check some stuff."

Assiduously glimpsed by the pleased royal monsters the two went, Franco all the while commenting on the state of things. "Ah! I have to think of everything, while those older idlers loaf about out there!"

As soon as he left the kitchen, husband and wife exchanged a quick glance, and could not help but chuckle. "What a subject that boy!"

"Quite so! And you look a bit like him, Asgore. When you were ‘younger’."

“Say? Well, you know, not as young as one used to be!” he chortled and, by the way, whenever he opened the mouth Toriel slipped pieces of cake inside, barely holding back the laughter for the amount of crumbs that ended up on the beard. “Hmm, delicious! You have not lost your touch, thanks Tori.”

"You are welcome," – she said, giving her attention now to pouring the batter into a pan – "You make me blush." She did not appear that excited of course, but a wink worked out just the same.

The monster thanked her again with a silent smile, gently stroking her back. That helped him to sate his hunger for a while nevertheless. He lazily looked a little past her, toward the wide glass door and the patio. The other two humans were catching the sunrays, the one leaning to a tree, the other fiddling with a squirrel intimidated by her size.

"And there they are." Asgore loosened the air in his lungs, for a long-deserved sigh. "Golly, how true it is, what a lively youth! They would make me feel young too!"

Toriel peered on the drawn wrinkles of his face. Those of a solemn, latent, centuries-old and imperceptible autumn of life, to which she gave no attention until now. There was still something... difficult to glean from the eyes of the King, complicated to unravel in his words imbued with enigmatic double meaning.

"Asgore?"

"Tori?" He did not expect her attention, and glanced down to her. "What is it?"

"Something bothers you?"

"What makes you think so?"

She suppressed one snicker. She examined him with an attentive eye, mumbling convinced. "Let's see. An insecure vibe in your voice, elusive eyes, sentences that sound melancholic, not to mention them being fragmented and uncertain... Maybe, just maybe, you are and still remain an open book to me, mister.”

“Oh my.” Caught in the act. "Golly if I tell you this is embarrassing."

"But this is not about me, is it?"

"No. I am leisurely working on that."

"And it seems that at the moment you are doing a great job."

"It is reassuring to hear that. We could say that I am well on track?"

"More or less, but do not get any flamboyant ideas."

An amused smile was the result. "Nah, I figured."

What was supposed to be a serious discussion, it flowed lightly in total harmony. Otherwise, it would have been difficult to make him utter a few words.

And, as he let her fingers run between the hairs of his golden mane, he found the words. “In all honesty, I can talk about it to you. It occurs to me that, sometimes I seriously think... we have taken the place of their parents.”

“Gorey..."

"Think about it Tori. We assumed the right to call them our children and we do not even know whether they agreed on this, without asking them their opinion on the matter. We have not given them such time when they arrived in the Underground, we have not given ourselves time either to learn all about their situation, apart from all the obvious else that they went through. They have been ripped from their roots, from their own epochs, and woe to me if I broke their equilibrium or something, influencing their imprisoned souls…”

"Calm down Gorey, calm down," she hushed him. "What you say it is true, but once fallen into Ebott you could not get out. However nasty it may sound, they were doomed the very moment they arrived. Who else could they hope for, other than a friendly face you can trust? And my best one is a parenting one, I cannot do much,” she said self-ironic, biting her lips in a simper pained by much history.

But that pained Asgore also, shaking the head slowly, heavy with dismay. "Ebott is gone now. We are in their world, and there is nothing that will force them to a resigned fate. I will not be surprised if they would feel the need to go in search of their origins, or for a simple desire for freedom. And the fact that we call them 'our children', maybe… maybe this might embarrass them, maybe they do not feel like that.”

Toriel sighed. "I see and, yes, I understand. That is to be expected with all children, and just think about adopted ones for that matter!”

"That's not the point. The fact is that we are so, so… different. I mean–"

He cursed his own tongue, but Toriel was still outright serene. "Are you saying that we are not cut out for this? That between being monsters and humans there is an insurmountable obstacle?”

"No, no! Not at all! I would not dream of thinking such a thing! It's just… let’s stop fooling ourselves Tori, the blatant fact is that we, with all our good intentions, with all the love we can give, we are not their real parents. We cannot escape from this fact, we will never replace them. And alas, I stopped believing the rhetoric that 'where is your family, there is home'. I am afraid we will not be enough for them…”

"Why all of a sudden you become so negative?" Toriel shushed him again, her hands between his neck and nape. "We are two again, remember? We are surrounded by loving friends, and I do not see how this cannot be sufficient to make them feel at home. And then, are not they intelligent and judicious children? They understand the situation better than you and me combined. Maybe they will not loosen up immediately, and they are free to think of us not that way, but gradually they may, even will, consider us for what we are supposed to be: adoptive parents, who have nothing dissimilar to a biological parent, do not you think so?"

Asgore listened in silence.

"Worry not, Fluffybuns," she finally said, and hugged him. "Worry not. Everything will be okay."

He lapsed into her embrace.

"Everything will be okay."

* * *

Sophie let her head fall on the wall of the house. Eyes shut, in the grip of her own heavy breathing. Disheartened, she slumped on the wooden patio.

A miserable chink of the window was enough to let their conversation through, like it was left ajar on purpose. Her heart amplified the rest, too heavy to swallow.

"You heard?" she asked, seeking his comfort.

Jebediah muttered listless. From his location, blissfully sprawled, aside and opposite to her back, crossing his legs, he heard just fine.

Sophie started to bite a fingernail. "So lucky to arrive at the right time and overhear everything."

"Mhmm, maybe so."

The emptiness of meaning of that answer drew Sophie’s annoyed scowl. "You sure are helping, y’know?" she growled at him.

"What can I say? True, that's sound to feel that way."

"Oh shucks Jeb!" – she groaned softly – "I feel bad just by looking at them. It pains me to hear them feeling this way. At this rate, we’d have been better off walking away first-hand instead of hide."

"Hobble your lip, wouldja?" he replied just as annoyed, to which Sophie gaped at him. "It lightened on us, and it’s actually a good thing."

"What?! Good thing you say? For what is worth knowing how torn they are, besides making us feel worse?"

"Like, adjust accordingly? Meet ‘em halfway, ease their burden?"

"That should come out spontaneously!" she replied scathing, but the muscles have already succumbed to the sense of defeat. "Humph, still can’t see them like that. I know they’d do everything for us, but I cannot stand being a deadweight to them."

"’Cause we’re just in the beginning. It’s the first time for ‘em, ditto for us on the other side of the road."

This time she turned to him with the whole bust. "Certainly wasn’t expecting you to be like this, Jeb couldn't-give-a-damn Dreemurr."

"It’s you who’s climbing on the first bandwagon on sight." Out of the corner, a slight shrewd smirk of him, petrified her reasoning. She just folded her arms, not even glancing at him.

"Don’t get your back up, lil sis," he said, pinching her ankle. "Look Sophie, life ain’t easy for anyone. It hasn’t been nice to us, it wasn’t to ‘em, and you know it. We ought to carry on and find our place in the world which, just so happens, changed a lot since the fall. There’s no need to rush it. Besides, we pretty much lived our childhood already, so we should be well covered on that and be less of a trouble for ‘em."

"Still, you aren’t much of a help. Maybe this escapes you but, want it or not, this is our family now. They are our reference points, whether we like it or not, and the fact they do have these worries, fears, self-doubts... no, this isn’t good.”

“Well, ‘nuff said.”

“Oh c’mon! Tch, don’t you have any pity for them, not even a little?"

"Hey, don’t get me wrong. I love ‘em more than the cat loves the cream jar, if you know what I mean. I'm not sayin’ I ain’t figurin’ how they feel, I reckon that. Havin’ responsibility for all these children takes yo’ whole self."

"Which means, we have to help to make this house a home. For them all. And the younger ones have to live it in absolute serenity, especially Asriel. You’ve heard what Ioreon said to Asgore, don’t you?”

"Yup, ‘course I remember."

"So let’s get this straight: take to heart the situation with me and do your part as brother, and me as sister. Therefore, we better find some part-time job, after all a family of ten people is hard to feed. If all goes well, we’ll work our way thru studies and find the time to care for the others, since Asgore and Toriel will have their own things to attend to, and in fact they might not even have time for themselves, and then–"

"Wo wo wo! Hold it there," he interrupted her, almost making her fall pulling down the leg in the heat. "Sis, what are you talkin’ about?"

"What now?"

"Sugarcube, you’re overthinking things. Don't get your cows runnin’ yet, all in good time. And– alright, if you really want to make the roadmap go ahead, but we don’t even know how things run around here."

Sophie took the blow, stifling in her mouth a shriek of frustration. "Why, why things come all together all of a sudden?"

"The beauty of life. As far as I can tell, a year is made of 20 days more or less, and that’s where everything’s packed. You'll see, once this period is over, all runs smoother."

Sophie huffed at him. "Maybe so."

"Yep."

Sophie huffed again. Her analytical mind did not like sudden upheavals, let alone emotional of which she could not have total control. And that bugged her.

Jebediah being brazenly and at least seemingly indifferent did not help either, sent her out of her mind. Tightening the knuckles and reasoning on a bit more, she dropped all thoughts of retaliation though. To some extent he was right.

"How about…" – she said, her voice aseptic – "How about having breakfast now?"

“Works for me.”

The boy stood up and held out the hand to get her up. Setting aside her pride, she accepted it, and let him to be the one to open the glass door.

* * *

"Who wants another slice?" Toriel invited the others, showing off the pie in plain sight, to which at least six responded by lifting their emptied plates.

“Uggh.” Franco loudly put the cutlery on the table. "I can’t Ma, I'm bursting!"

"After gobbling two courses of pancakes already, can’t wonder why," Fion remarked.

"Just guessing, but melon and honey paired so well with it, so I think that's why!" Asriel said to him, still licking his chops and wagging the tail, hands outstretched for another slice. The sister, Vérane, did the honours for him. "Here take one, dear."

"Thank you!"

"You are very welcome!"

Toriel moved nimbly and light from one chid to another, gratified by the result. Not wanting to take the risk, in the end she gave her last full measure of her terrific ability of thrifty cook, processing what was left in the pantry to churn out two imperial size cakes and fiftyish puffy pancakes, handing out generous portions, as usual. Asgore in the meanwhile... was in seventh heaven. He truly was impressed by the amount of pie he succeeded to swallow, sure that he could stuff himself with much much more.

That so blatantly contrasted with an ever more impressed Jebediah, who on the contrary to him chewed slowly on the pancakes, trying to remember some particulars. "So… where does all this come from again?"

"This wecipe you say?” Frisk took off her fork to respond. “Fwom Amalrica, last time I checked."

"Ah. I think I missed it. On the rare occasions I ate ‘em, they’re much thinner. And baked in the oven."

Reminiscence lighted up Vérane’s face. "Were _crêpes_ those pancakes you ate?"

"Somethin’ like that. My favorite dessert no doubt, simon-pure."

This left her quite pleased with sweet memories. She nevertheless took another couple of pancakes and sprinkled over abundant maple syrup. "These are thicker, and the flavour is really different, and I love it!"

"It is a pleasure to hear your comments, my children," chirped Toriel, who was still wandering refusing to sit down. "I am really happy that you are enjoying your first breakfast."

In the confusion of dishes that came and went, in the carefree clamour of even silly comments, as long as they talked about, and a movement leading to another, a misstep of Yukiko knocked over Frisk’s cutlery with a clank. The little girl winced, immediately flushing with dismay. " _Gomen ne_ Frisk _-chan_! Ah, I mean– I meant to say 'sorry'.”

"Whoa wait! Nothing happened, no wowies!”

"I am so careless!" Yukiko started to get up from the chair, but Frisk still took the initiative. "No you're not! Stay there, I'll get ‘em!”

" _Ariga_... thank you," she said, with spontaneity that got in the way. "Worse is, my Anglish vocabulary is in a really bad shape…"

Frisk gleefully beamed at that. "If Alphys and Undyne ever find you speaking in your way, that’s the end of you!"

" _Sō desu ka_..." Yukiko mused to himself. "I'll be careful."

"But hey, don’t take me too sewiously!"

"Sorry!" she replied, and just by the looks of Frisk’s funny face, they both burst out laughing.

Long story short, they set in quickly to the new state of affairs.

"It has been so long since this house breathed an atmosphere so vibrant!" Toriel admitted, finally taking the seat for the coveted breakfast.

"Yeah, and regarding that…" – Asgore wondered – "Thinking back to Alphys and Undyne, strange we have yet to hear from them. Is it not around this time they usually come to visit?”

"You remember well," – Toriel replied, slightly surpassing the chatter of the others – "And in my opinion, they will not be long in coming. I do not think Papyrus will keep our yesterday 'misadventures' down-low.”

"Oh, indeed I think not!” he agreed, and in the process a roar behind the front door silenced him and them all.

Toriel rolled her eyes. "Perfect timing."

Like a battering ram, it continued to pound on the door, incrementally powerful.

Similar memories came to Asgore’s mind. "Gosh, I recognise this knocking so staunch, the tremendous noise, the creaking wood of the door!"

The realisation was so compelling that it speeded up his movements so to rush to the door as soon as possible, but not promptly enough. His readiness could not match the impetus on the other side, that just sent the door flying to the ground in a cloud of dust.

The light coming from outside all of a sudden, blindly outlined a tall, lean silhouette.

The metal sound of a single hinge dropping down on the parquet soon was smothered, crushed by the visitor’s studded boot.

"Guys, you say we should take shelter?" Fion directed his gaze on Asriel and Frisk, impassive.

"It would be advisable," the little girl replied with iconic plain face. “But I think it’s too late now.”

Balancing on the wood, with fist smashing the upper air, stood the ex-Captain of the Royal Guard, upright in dramatic pose, red hair flying in hero wind, her only eye gleaming with utmost passion.

“HOLY FREACKIN’ CRAP!”

[\- Spear of Justice – Guitar / Rock Cover -](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=793ECMd7i2Q)

Undyne made her entrance and lost herself in a moment. "Then it's real! IT'S DARN REAL!" she squealed in ecstasy, revved up and all hyped. The fact they were all present, sitting neatly and collected, terrified as a side note, turned the event into the grandest day of her life, or almost. "You were so frickin’ right Papyrus! So many many humans, IT'S ASTOUNDING! JEEZ!”

"UNDYNE!" Toriel shouted back, shooting Undyne and her impetuosity a withering look. "It's the third door in a month you bust through!"

"Uh? Which door?”

"Perhaps the one you're standing on right now?" Toriel pointed out peeved towards Undyne's feet.

"Oh, this one?" she tittered nervously and went back down to earth. "Ahem, sorry about that! I couldn’t wait anymore!”

"I cannot do this." Toriel pinched the bridge of the nose. "Every time the same story."

"And you Dadgore!" – Undyne catapulted herself by the King in less than no time – "I was blown away, almost having a heart attack when I heard you were gone! You have no idea how many doors I broke down to check on you!”

Toriel shook the head. "Three, Undyne. Three."

"Exactly!" – she replied with a beam on her face, her hand firmly on the King’s shoulder – "Every other time I was so bummed out to react, and so…”

"AH! You missed me then, huh?” Asgore, of course, with an armful pulled her in a bear hug, whence the poor fish monster could not break free. “HEY! Don’t do this without warning!”

"OH NO! WE ARRIVED TOO LATE!” Papyrus appeared on the edge of the door, carrying a bundled up Sans under his arm. “there it goes the surprise.”

"Undyne?!" Alphys’ voice was heard in the distance. She was breathing heavily, and in a last ditch effort reached the jamb and grabbed onto it with claws, not really caring about her red blouse rubbing against it. "Phew! W-Why she’s so fast?!”

"Hey Alphys, check this out! It goes beyond all expectations!” Undyne had managed to pop the head out from all that hair and breathe again.

If only the caved in timber and the fallen down flakes were not the first obvious thing to stick out like a sore thumb. “Oh m-m-my! Asgore! Toriel! I’m so, so TERRIBLY sorry! Dear me what a mess!”

And in all this, the humans were under severe confusion.

"Guess ain’t the best time to hold on breakfast." Jebediah rose from the table with unnatural naturalness, pulling Franco with him for the sake of his own, who just cracked up with laughter nearly falling out of his chair. "What a lovely bunch of desperados they are!"

"I TRIED TO HOLD HER! I SWEAR!” Papyrus intervened all apologetic, limping along with Sans on the shoulder. “SANS! TELL THEM YOU TOO!”

“huh? is she here?” the other skeleton replied, playing the ignorant but at least not dozing while clutching to the breastplate of his brother. "i heard she went fishin’ for new friends."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"

Sans eye-wandered elsewhere. “sorry paps. from here i don’t quite ‘sea’ it.”

“SANS! WHY DO YOU COMPLICATE MY LIFE WITH YOUR PARENTHETIC PUNS?!”

"in return, the cool breeze flows like a charm."

"Never mind, never mind," Toriel sighed heavily looking away, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "If you have at least the sense to help us fix the disaster, it would be much appreciated."

Actually, since her fits of anger were very short-lived, she eventually gave up and smiled warmly. Getting up, quickly gauging the damage, she shook the head, tittering this time. “Well, although the breakfast has ended abruptly, you have indeed come in a fairly serene moment, so... would you like to eat something? Or may I tempt you with some orange juice, a tea perhaps?”

"Thank you Toriel, gladly! But ANYWAY!" Undyne got straight to the point, still grinning. And wriggling free from Asgore. "I haven’t come just for Asgore, and in fact: care to explain to me what's happening here? Who are all these kiddies? Where’d they come from?”

A small crowd gathered at her words, made up of humans and monsters, the family of Dreemurr. Asgore head-on and proudly joined it alongside his wife. "Undyne," – the King patiently urged the perplexed ex-Captain – "These are the humans who spent their last years in the Underground, and who we believed dead, the six fallen humans, that we adopted. And moreover–”

"WHAT?!" Undyne interrupted him in the middle of it. She was only suspecting it, but hearing that from Asgore's mouth was another matter. It literally fried her brains. "YOU GOTTA BE KIDDIN’ ME ASGORE!"

The humans had no clue as to whether hers were smiles or terrible winces to show off her flashy collection of pointed teeth.

Alphys heaved a sigh of relief. She finally managed to catch her breath. "Um, U-Undyne? I do not think that Asgore and Toriel would joke about something like this…” She went beside the pisciform monster, still slouched and paralysed, without any apparent reaction. To be safe she waved the hands in front of her eyes, which apparently were still working. "T-this should explain why he's gone for so long! I believe him.”

Asgore crossed his hands embarrassed. "Well, technically, it did not go exactly like–"

"It's not that I don’t believe him Alphys!" Undyne snapped again. "But it’s impossible that they survived, like, intact! They didn’t die of old age y’know!”

“actually they are those fallen humans,” Sans reiterated, still on Papyrus and facing away from everyone. “sorry to screw it up for you undyne. and heya there mettaton.”

"Ehem, good morning to you, Sans,” the visitor coughed, concealed at sight. "It seems I just came in time for the presentations."

"METTATON?!" When he heard the robotic voice, Papyrus looked around left and right, up and down, in search of its source. "WHERE’S METTATON? OH, METTATON!”

"Just behind you darling."

Papyrus leapt out in surprise, away from his sight. Again the sun played with lights and shades but, when it comes to him, it was anything but the spotlight par excellence.

The celebrity that amazed and still continues to amaze, the star of monsters and revelation to humans, revolutionising the vogue of society with energy and spectacle, wonder and variety, shown now in the utmost splendour of anthropomorphic form. "My, nice to see everyone. I hastened as soon as I received notice," he punctuated through his classy, branded voice.

Blaring synchronised heels on the parquet, clothed with a vaporous black synthetic fur, he moved inside the house to their general amazement. “Thank you Alphys dear for the fast message."

"Y-you’re welcome Mettaton, I knew you'd be happy to–”

"Of course I MUST have been prepared at the apex of beauty for the occasion. And then, I’m sure it’s not that bad to keep people waiting for just a little bit, ah! Who’d have thought that the King would come back with the fallen humans and his lost son? Splendid, simply SPLENDID!”

"Someone said lost son?! Damnit, how much stuff did I miss?!” The good news run over her in a so rapid fire that Undyne could no longer contain herself, with the poor Papyrus who did not know whom to turn to. “THIS IS BECAUSE YOU DID NOT GIVE ME THE TIME TO EXPLAIN!"

"Is that joyful woollen fluffy thing right there?!" Undyne finally came to realise there was a lone minor monster in the company.

"Well, yes, Undyne, as I was trying to explain to you," Asgore added. "Asriel, our son. That’s really him.”

Asriel, focus of everyone’s attention now, at first did not know what to say. Apparently, the others were able to act cool, but he was definitely the least anticipated, the most amazing, the impossible. Probably that’s what crossed each other’s mind. Perhaps they would have noticed who he had been from a millennia up to the present, especially Alphys, or Sans.

In him the good cheer relinquished, leaving a tensed mouth, paws folded onto the chest, holding it as though the soul could ever escape. But the gaze was firm though resigned.

Undyne approached for a close inspection but he did not retreat, like ready for a showdown at hand. She gave him an once-over, compared him to the two monarchs. "Yes, that’s definitely your son."

That sounded so… neutral. Arguably, almost disappointing. Asriel was genuinely staggered.

“Seems like you’ve got around the same age of Frisk, yeah?” she said leaning over, ruffling his fur. It may be that Asriel never dared to get too near to her, but now, close a heartbeat away, he could appreciate how much the most intrepid of heroines could soften the traits, worthy of a big sister. “But you don’t look like a punk, y’know… like her.”

“Oh, not again! Always with this humbug!” Frisk retorted rebelliously. “Undyne, go fish!”

“WAIT WHAT?”

Unbelievable to everyone, but Undyne especially. Not only did she speak, she did so with temper. It was a blow to Undyne's soul, paralysed yet again, on a par to an anime shock.

Sans raised an explaining finger. "that's my dudette."

Asriel still said nothing. He just lost it, going with the flow of hilarity re-started by the Sikelian boy, seemingly de-petrifying Undyne in the process. “And that’d be your reaction?! Did I tickled you somewhere?” she questioned with a cringe, but secretly joining them in their laughs.

To see Undyne in that way was unusual. Another unexpected accomplishment that stacked in the series of fortuitous events, which prompted Papyrus. “HAPPY DAYS! OH SANS, LOOK HOW THEY ARE BONDING!”

“still can’t see it paps, i’m hugging you.”

The grinning tall skeleton moved the short one away from his chest, holding him between rib cage and armpits like a baby, just to see him on the face. "IT IS AT MOMENTS LIKE THIS THAT I DO REALIZE HOW MY BROTHER IS IMPORTANT TO ME!"

"i love your sentimental side bro."

And he put him down. "NOW YOU STAND UP! ESPECIALLY SINCE IT DOES NOT FEEL RIGHT TO HAVE BONES TO PICK WITH ANYONE, ABOVE ALL YOURS.”

Sans stared incredulously at his brother and his deliberate winks. “paps, really a good one” he confessed, with subtly curved eye-sockets. “love you too, coolest bro ever.”

"Darlings, you’re moving me so much. You really are a Cinnamon Roll Papyrus,” Mettaton said, hand on his pauldron.

His robotic arm around his shoulders was manna from heaven. “OH METTATON! IT IS SO GOOD TO KNOW THAT YOU ALSO VALUE THE FAMILY!” said Papyrus, adoring fan, next to his favourite star.

"Of course beautiful, I indeed don’t lack family ties! And actually, thinking about it, where’s my dear Blooky?” he thought aloud, looking at the door to a point not well defined. “Blooky? Don’t be shy and lonely in the background, come in!”

With sheer fleetingness, responding to the call at once, a featureless little ghost emerged from the wall, floating calmly towards his cousin-celebrity. “greetings… forgive the intrusion. it seemed impolite to me to interrupt your comments…”

“Don’t be so formal Blooky! You’re also part of the family, you know that!”

“it’s alright mettaton…” – Napstablook smiled mellow and candid – “but i'll just stand in some corner, i don’t want to bother… imagine i’m not even here, oooooo…”

But like a bolt from the blue, Undyne thought it was high time. “OK, HOLD IT RIGHT HERE!” she cried out, military parade style. “Are we all here? Great!”

The fish monster left the Dreemurrs and returned to the opposite side, among the guests. The river of consciousness settled on more placid waters. "SO! As you already guessed, the name's Undyne, small fries! And this! –” she pulled Alphys on impulse, leaving her all blushing “– Is my super-duper special girlfriend Alphys!”

“Oh no. Um… H-h-hi!” Alphys timidly waved her hand. “Never felt more embarrassed in my whole life…”

“Since the two skelebros presented themselves already, I guess,” – Mettaton stepped in – “Even though there’d be no need for presentations, I’ll make an exception for this wonderful public. Well, my fine and extraordinary children, I’m Mettaton, the one and only. And here’s my trusty sound mixer, and adorable (adorable I tell you) cousin, Napstablook!”

They had lost sight of him at first in fact, standing in a real quiet corner. “thank you mettaton, can’t get used to all this attention… my pleasure to meet all this nice people.” Napstablook gave them a slight bow.

Perhaps they were not the most representative spokespersons of all monsterkind, but they certainly shared the same desire of welcoming enthusiasm, to which Toriel clapped grateful. "It is so nice to have everyone here!" she did not hold back from smiling on their friendly friends. "May I have the honour of making the introductions, honey?" she said, looking for Asgore's complicity.

"No trouble at all! Please go ahead!" he nodded.

"Thank you dear. Let us proceed in order, starting with the eldest. They are: Jebediah–”

"Howdy y'all."

"Sophie–”

"Hey people! So nice to meet you all!” she winked.

"Franco–”

" _Ah beddi_! It's always great to meet new friends!”

"Vérane–”

"Ahem, _bonjour_! A pleasure to make the acquaintance of all of you!”

"Fion–”

"Oi! Howza goin'?”

"And Yukiko."

The little one, exceptionally shy, was more or less concerned by the reactions they could have had. “Hi everyone,” she said, half-hidden behind the hems of Toriel's dress.

Her name ignited some… interesting remembrance in Alphys. The goggles shone in the sunshine for a moment.

It was short-lived since Undyne went to pick her up in a breath of healthy gaiety. "Bloody heck! Just to get to know all these new people I feel so energised… I could take the whole house on my shoulders! "

“H-hey! Put me down Undyne! I d-don’t think it’s right to get so overenthusiastic!”

That was it. A spark had been struck, and Fion reached epic levels of mind-blowing. "I think I'm in love with her."

“Oh _mizzica_ , _mizzica_!” Franco found the fresh opportunity. “Invite her to dinner with a good dry white wine!”

“I see what you did there,” Jebediah commented amused with hand over the mouth. “Righty-oh, could her be a swordfish?”

“Hmm, dunno,” – said Sophie with a finger on the mouth, critically eyebrows-raising – “To me, she’s definitely a spearfish.”

“Oh no way! That’s so sick dudes!” And they lost Fion also, in a guffaw. “But you can’t break da magic!”

Undyne’s frenzy did not stop there, and their irony only served to stimulate her, as a vein bulged on her forehead. Taken by quite other feelings, she featured a test of strength with flexed biceps and hips. "Haha! These little fellas seem to know what they’re about! It’ll be a pleasure to show them what a passionate heart can do! I predict great things for the future with them!”

"Without forgetting study and education, it is also very important," Toriel suggested, clasping her hands together in an almost matriarchal exhortation. "However, I agree, Undyne. If you want to contribute to their physical education, equally valid, you are more than welcome.”

"At your command, Highness!" Undyne expressed her full of grit loyalty with hands on the hips. It sounded strange in Toriel's ears.

"YOUR HIGHNESS, ALLOW ME TO PARTICIPATE TOO!" Because no less is expected of Papyrus. "I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD BE OVER-EAGER TO SERVE! EVEN THOUGH I CANNOT DECIDE YET ON WHAT TO TEACH…” he said, tuning down the intensity of speech in order to ask to himself questions so cardinal and indisputable, hand on his chin.

Toriel mimicked him, playful. "Hmm, what are you best at? Let us see… The value of goodness and compassion, of giving always a second chance, of tenacity and optimism… Well, it seems you have a wide variety to choose from, Papyrus."

His eyes sparkled, basically. His squeak of joy was enough response to Toriel, as well as to everyone else.

And while they were trying to offer the best of their services, Alphys brooded. She could not help but keep an eye on Mettaton from time to time, anxiously.

“Mettaton,” – she approached him – “Are you feeling okay? This configuration is still really energy-expensive, despite the newer updates. Wouldn’t you risk running out of battery this way?”

At first the android did not pay on that too much attention, but Alphys' face spoke well about her care.

"Alphys, dear," he replied, his tone reassuring despite his cold steel armour, "Don’t worry, I'm monitoring my vitals and they’re on average 93% positive. Rather, thanks for installing the new heatsinks, they’re working beautifully!”

"Um, t-thanks for that Mettaton, but still… There was really need to come with the humanoid setup?"

"There, there Alphys! Why such questions? I think it’s important, even due, to look my best, which is not just for my pride and joy. Consider it as my effort to equate through beauty and elegance the regard I have for the Dreemurrs and to emphasise my happiness for all these wondrous events. So, it's really a risk I gladly accept! Don’t you agree Blooky?”

Every opportunity was good for getting Napstablook involved, but he was happy to just nod and howl softly once in a while.

“Well, I g-guess you did convince me. Just r-remember to let me know if you’re in need, okay? I always have a Cell Quantum Energizer just for you.”

"You're such a sweetie, Alphys. By the way, I think this choice is paying off. I’m having effect on the humans, one in particular.”

Alphys was surprised, but soon she understood when saw his gaze on the young _pucelle_ , standing to the left of Toriel. Pale and delicate, sometimes losing minutes to study his details and uttering extemporaneous “ _Quelle élégance_ ”. Perhaps because of the amount of glitters on Mettaton, he truly had an almost hypnotic effect on her.

He left Alphys’ side, walking into the chatting crowd, to greet the girl. “Vérane, am I correct?"

"Oh! Yes it’s me, Mettaton sir,” she jittery said, but still fluent, giving a slight bow. “How can I be of service?"

Mettaton stopped with open-wide eyes, truly impressed. “Never seen before such a fresh, dainty maiden! To be honest, I ask you nothing fancy but to accept my appreciation for your noble bearing, a so rare quality to find in people.”

At that, taken by generosity, he left her a handkerchief. “Here, hopefully you will appreciate this gesture. Your deep gaze fascinated me."

Vérane, not wanting to be rude, accepted it. An elegant rendition of Mettaton's face was embroidered on it. It seemed like a normal thing, but for her it had a definite meaning.

“Sorry to interrupt you,” Jebediah innocently interjected, which however created a certain expectation in Mettaton, looking interested. “Sure you looked really engrossed on something, but can I just get in here for a second? Seein’ this gentleman of the first water I just got curious.”

“Creative choice of words. Go ahead, you got my attention.”

“Alright, now that I look at you, I can’t understand if you’re a monster plain and simple, or some kind of knight in a shining, really tight armor."

"I have a vague feeling he is a knight…” the little girl sheepishly smiled, as she rolled a brown strand of hair of hers.

Mettaton laughed, sophisticatedly. "Haha, sure this is a pertinent question! Paraphrasing, I’m both, a heart of monster in a robotic body. After all, how could I be Napstablook’s cousin otherwise?”

"Ohh, that's fine. I’ve got no clue on what a robot is, but I guess I'll find out one day.”

"Undoubtedly young man, there’s a world yet to discover outside, you’ve just scratched its surface. Who knows, if you’re eager to, I could make myself a host for your first contacts with human society, so tremendously prolific and creative!”

So he parted from them with a shake of hands, waiting for the King to speak with him about his adventures. This encounter left both humans fascinated, and Jebediah even astonished. "What an odd stick. Or maybe is it just me that can’t quite grasp the habits monsters and humans adopted in the meantime? At least he hasn’t given me the impression of a barber’s clerk.”

His own wonderment was no match to Vérane’s, transfixed by overwhelming and dreamy thoughts. "I've never seen anything so sophisticated and shiny, apart from the King's Palace of Francogallia…”

"Hey Vérane, hey!" Sophie, out of nowhere, just came to bring her back with a snap of the fingers. "Don’t be getting ideas," she advised in a low voice.

" _Oui_ , Sophie," she consented, remissive and full of expectations.

In all this, Frisk and Asriel stood by. It seemed that everyone had forgotten about them.

“Frisk, just between us…” – Asriel told her – “Hat’s off for handling all this hyperactivity, I could never imagine how energetic they turned out to be.”

Frisk gave him a thumbs up, with a bright smile and shining eyes. “That’s thanks to Detewmination, Azry!”

* * *

The sun was high in the sky.

They were reluctant to leave just after a snack and a drink, but the guests eventually said their goodbyes to their hosts after a thousand hugs, leaving behind Dreemurr’s house. Actually still without the door.

"I'll need a really long break after so many revelations!" – Undyne said resolutely – “But first, we should celebrate! Like, today! All monsters should know!”

Alphys hung on her lips, but she was nevertheless enthusiastic about the decision, sensible among other things. "Um, I'd s-suggest we s-should include the humans, too. Rocharts inhabitants have been very willing and helpful so far. They’ll love to participate, I think.”

"Yeah, we should totally ask the Mayor for a little party on the plaza!"

"I'll be the one speaking and convincing him," Mettaton went on. "If I may say so myself, I enjoy a certain fame, and he won’t refuse if I’ll EXPRESSLY ask him. I guess the right time to make this happen is in the late afternoon. We’ll need a lot of preparations to make it worthy, an event definitely not to be missed!”

"A GOLD OCCASION! THE EVENING OF THE CENTURY! AT LEAST FOR US MONSTERS. BUT! I SHALL RECRUIT AS MANY HUMANS AS I CAN TO OUR CAUSE!”

“paps, this isn’t some sort of convention.”

"I KNOW THAT SANS! BUT CREATING CONTACTS IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS NURTURING THE ONES THAT YOU HAVE!”

"welp alright. makes sense."

As they argued animatedly, engaged they headed towards the highway, so engaged that they did not really realised they spoiled their own surprise to Asgore and Toriel, standing strategically behind, inadvertently assuming the anxiety of preparations.

"I knew that all of them would have gone off on a tangent.” Asgore put the hands in his hair.

Toriel, for her part, was tormenting her wrists. "On one hand I welcome the fact they want it to be a surprise, on the other… how should we introduce ourselves? Still as King and Queen?”

"Without a doubt, Tori."

"And considering that it will be focused on the fallen humans and Asriel… They should be introduced properly, not to say elegant but at least decent and decorous.”

“Just think of them still going around home with sweatshirts and jerseys too big for them."

"Never let it be said we mistreat them! Which means, the only way is going for boutiques. I will leave immediately.”

Asgore watched her swiftly going inside to pick her purse, and immediately moving away to the direction of her car, way to the hamlet of Rocharts. "Tori! If I can do something, tell me, please. I shall not let you do it all by yourself!”

"Wholeheartedly, I suggest you stay home, where you will be more useful. Make sure they are clean and fresh and possibly send me an estimate of their measures. Let's stay in touch by phone.”

"Perfect, without fail!"

"And remember to put the door on hinges again!"

"Gosh, that’s true!" Asgore facepalmed. "Now I understand Ioreon’s recalcitrance. I wonder if he has foreseen even this, that old weasel! He spared himself these hard nuts to cra–”

"Gorey? Did you say something?"

"NOTHING! Nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then Napstablook said to Asriel: "sorry, it looks like everybody knows everybody's name except me. didn’t get who you are actually.”  
> Poor Blooky, he came too late.
> 
> Well guys, what a colourful crowd. Of course monsters are far more emotional than humans.  
> Will they be okay with the coldness of human institutions that will start to make their appearance? Wait for the next chapters.
> 
> “Human cultures construct an enormous variety of environments through language, technology, and institutions. We are born in and die in these systems of symbols and imagination.”  
> ― William E. Paden


End file.
